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UC-NBLF 


THE  LIBRARY 

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THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 


ALUMNUS 
BOOK  FUND 


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A  TALE  OF 


BY  THE  AUTHOR  OP  "TEN  THOUSAND  A-YEAK." 


BOSTON: 
BRAINARD  &  CO.,  13   COURT  STREET. 
NEW  YORK,   M.  T.  BEACH,  ahd  GRAHAM  ft  CHRISTY. 
BANGOR,  ME.,  DAVID  BUGBEE. 


1843, 


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THE  DESTROYER; 


A  TALE  OE 


GUILT  AND  SORROW. 


BY  THE  AUTHOR  OF  "TEN  THOUSAND  A-YEAR." 


"Terribly  beautiful  the  serpent  lay, 
Wreathed  like  a  coronet  of  gold  and  jewels 
Fit  for  a  tyrant's  brow;  anon  he  flew  —  " 


BOSTON : 

BRAINARD  &,  CO.,  22  COURT  STREET. 


^UHHtli 


./r«-  ^y- 


^55 


Introductory  —  To  the  Fair  and  Innocent  Reader. 

Chapter  I.  —  The  Heroine. 

Chapter  II.  —  My  First  Call. 

Chapter  III.  —  The  Departure  —  Captain  Alverley. 

Chapter  IV.  —  A  London  Season  —  Danger. 

Chapter  V.  —  The  Destroyer. 

Chapter  VI  —  A  Sick  Child  —  the  Mother  at  the  Opera. 

Chapter  VII.  —  The  Elopement. 

Chapter  VIII.  —  The  Husband  and  the  Children. 

Chapter  IX.  —  Plans  —  but  what  next  ? 

Chapter  X.  —  The  Challenge. 

Chapter  XL  —  The  Duel. 

Chapter  XII.  —  The  Destroyer  and  his  victim.     Conclu- 


sion. 


o;^i 


FAIR  AND  INNOCENT  READER : 

How  many,  many  thousands  of  you  will  read  this  narra- 
tive with  beating  and  indignant  hearts !  Shrink  not  from 
its  sad,  its  faithful  details ;  consider  them,  if  it  be  not  pre- 
sumptuously spoken,  in  somewhat  of  that  spirit  in  which 
you  ponder  the  mournful  history  of  Eve  and  Eden  :  of  her, 
our  first  mother,  who  weakly  hstening  to  the  serpent  tempter, 
was  ignominiously  thrust  out  of  her  bright  abode,  degraded 
from  her  blessed  estate,  and  entailed  innumerable  ills  upon 
her  hapless  progeny ! 

AVith  kindly  and  fervent  feeling,  my  conscience  bearing 
testimony  to  the  purity  of  my  intentions,  have  I  drawn  up, 
and  now  thus  commend  to  you  :  to  readers,  indeed,  of  both 
sexes,  and  of  all  classes  of  society,  this  narrative  of  a  late 
Physician :  of  one  who,  could  his  eye  detect  among  you 
one  whose  trembUng  foot  was  uplifted  to  deviate  from  the 
path  of  honor  and  of  virtue,  Avould  whisper,  amidst  his  re- 
luctant adieus  —  Beware! 


j' 


THE   DESTROYER. 


CHAPTER     I. 


THE       HEROINE 


Mrs.  St.  Helen,  a  young,  a  fond, 
and  beautiful  mother,  having,  one 
morning  in  June,  18 — ,  observed  a 
faint  flush  on  the  forehead  of  her  in- 
fant son,  —  her  first-born  and  only 
child,  and  ascertained  from  the  nur- 
sery-maid that  he  had  been  rather 
restless  during  the  night,  persuaded 
herself  and  her  husband  that  matters 
were  serious  enough  to  require  imme- 
diate medical  assistance  from  London. 
The  worthy  Colonel,  therefore,  order- 
ed his  phaiton  to  be  at  the  door  by 
ten  o'clock ;  and  having  been  scarce- 
ly allowed  by  his  anxious  wife  to  swal- 
low a  cup  of  coffee  and  finish  his  egg, 
presently  jumped  into  his  vehicle  and 
dashed  off  almost  as  rapidly  as  Mrs. 
St.  Helen,  who  remained  standing  on 
the  steps,  could  have  wished.  Though 
the  distance  was  nearly  nine  miles,  he 
reached  my  house  by  a  little  after 
eleven,  and  was  at  once  shown  into 
my  room,  where  I  was  arranging  my 
list  of  daily  visits.  It  seemed  clear, 
from  his  hurried  statement,  that  his 
little  son  and  heir  was  about  to  en- 
counter the  perils  of  scarlet  fever  or 
measles,  at  the  very  least ;  and  such 
were  his  importunities,  that  though  I 
had  several   special   engagements  for 


the  early  part  of  the  day,  I  was  in- 
duced, at  his  suggestion,  to  put  two 
hacks  to  my  carriage,  and  drive  down 
to  Densleigh  Grange,  accompanied 
by  the  Colonel,  who  ordered  his  ser- 
vant to  remain  in  town  till  the  horses 
had  been  rested. 

This  was  the  first  time  that  my  pro- 
fessional services  had  been  required 
in  Colonel  St.  Helen's  family  —  in 
fact,  I  had  never  been  at  Densleigh, 
though,  previous  to  their  marriage,  I 
had  been  rather  intimately  acquainted 
with  Mrs.  St.  Helen.  We  had  never 
once  met,  even  since  the  day  of  her 
marriage,  three  years  ago.  When  I 
last  saw  her  —  upon  that  happy  occa- 
sion —  I  thought  her  certainly  one  of 
the  loveliest  young  women  the  eye 
could  look  upon.  I  really  think  her 
person  and  manners  were  the  most 
fascinating  I  ever  witnessed.  When 
first  I  saw  her  she  was  only  seventeen, 
and  dressed  in  the  deepest  mourning, 
for  her  fatlicr,  the  Honorable  Mr.  An- 
nesley,  a  beneficed  clergyman  in  the 
west  of  England,  had  recently  died, 
leaving  her  to  the  care  of  his  brother, 
the  Earl  of  Hetlieringham,  whose  fa- 
mily I  wag  then  attending.  Her  mo- 
ther had  died  about  a  year  after  giving 


6 


THE  DESTROYER. 


birtli  to  tliis  her  first  and  only  child  ; 
and  licr  father  left  nothiii!!  behind  him 
but  his  daiitrhter  —  and  his  debts. 
Tlic  former  he  bequeathed,  as  I  have 
already  intimated,  to  his  brother,  who 
accepted  the  cliarffc  with  a  very  un- 
gracious air.  He  was  a  cold,  proud 
man — qualities,  however,  in  which 
his  Countess  excelled  him  —  by  no 
means  rich,  except  in  children  ;  of 
whom  he  had  three  sons  and  five 
dauo^htcr?,  who  instantly  recognised 
in  their  beautiful  cousin  a  most  for- 
midable competitor  for  the  notice  of 
society.  And  they  were  right.  The 
form  of  her  features  was  worthy  of 
the  rich  commingled  expression  of 
sweetness,  spirit,  and  intellect  that 
beamed  in  them.  What  passion  shone 
out  pf  her  dark,  blue  eyes  !  Her  fig- 
ure, too,  was  well  proportioned  and 
graceful,  just  budding  out  into  wo- 
manhood. She  was  sitting,  when  I 
first  saw  her,  at  a  little  rosewood  ta- 
ble, near  the  Countess,  in  her  boudoir 
—  one  hand  himg  down  with  a  pen 
in  it,  while  the  other  supported  her 
forehead,  from  which  her  fingers  were 
pressing  aside  her  auburn  hair  —  evi- 
dently in  a  musing  mood,  which  my 
sudden  entrance  through  the  door  al- 
ready standing  wide  open,  put  an  end 
to  "  You  need  not  go,"  said  the 
Counless  coldly,  seeing  her  hastily 
preparing  to  shut  up  her  little  desk  ; 
"my  niece  —  Miss  Annesley,  Doc- 
tor ! "  I  knew  the  Countess,  her 
character,  and  circumstaiicep,  well ; 
this  ex(|uisite  girl,  her  niece,  and  she 
with  five  daughter  to  dispose  of!  — 
Miss  Annesley,  after  slightly  acknow- 
ledging my  salutation,  resumed  lirr 
seat  and  pen.  I  could  hardly  keep 
my  eyes  away  from  her.  If  she  looks 
so  lovely  n''>w,  in  spite  of  this  gloomy 
dress,  thought  I,  what  must  she  be 
when  she  resumes  the  garb  of  youth- 
ful gaiety  and  elegance!  Ah,  Coun- 
tess, you  may  well  trend)le  for  your 
<1  Migliters,  if  this  jjirl  is  to  appear 
among  them.      "  You   see.  Doctor," 


continued  the  Counless,  in  a  matter- 
of-fact  manner,  while  these  thoughts 
glanced  through  my  mind  —  "  we  are 
all  thrown  into  sables  through  the 
death  of  the  Earl's  brother,  Mr.  An- 
nc.>ley." 

"  Indeed  !  "  I  interrupted,  with  a 
look  of  sympathy  towards  her  niece, 
who  sjjread  her  hand  over  her  eyes, 
while  the  pen  that  was  in  the  other 
slightly  quivered.  "  This  young  lady 
is,  in  fact,  all  mypoor  brother-in-law 
left  behind  him;  and"  (adding  in  a 
lower  tone)  "  she  now  forms  one  of 
our  little  family !  "  I  felt  infinitely 
hurt  at  the  scarce-concealed  sneer 
with  which  she  uttered  the  word  '  lit- 
tle.' Poor  Miss  Annesley,  I  feared, 
had  perceived  it;  for,  after  evidently 
struggling  ineffectually  to  conceal  her 
emotiiuis,  she  rose  and  stepped  ab- 
ruptly towards  the  door. 

"  You'll  find  your  cousins  in  the 
drawing-room,"  love!  go  and  sit  with 
them,"  said  the  Countess,  endeavor- 
ing to  speak  affectionately.  "  Poor 
thing ! "  she  continued,  as  soon  ns 
Miss  Annesley  had  closed  the  door, 
after  which  I  fancied  I  heard  her  run 
rapidly  up  stairs  —  doubtless  to  weep 
alone  in  her  own  room  —  "  her  father 
has  not  been  dead  more  than  a  fort- 
night, and  she  feels  it  acutely  !  — 
shockingly  involved,  my  dear  Doctor 
—  over  head  and  ears  in  debt !  — 
you've  no  idea  how  it  annoys  the 
Earl!  My  niece  is  perfectly  penny- 
less!  Literally,  we  were  obliged  to 
provide  the  poor  thing  with  mourn- 
ing !  I  insisted  on  the  Earl's  making 
her  one  of  our  family;"  —  a  great 
fdschood,  as  I  subesquently  discov- 
ered, for  she  had  suggesteil  and  urged 
sending  her  aliroad  to  a  nunnery, 
which,  iiowevcr  inclined  to  do,  he 
dared  not  for  appearances'  sake.  — 
"  She'll  be  a  companion  for  my 
voutiocr  daughters,  though  she's  quite 
countryfied  at  present  —  don'^  you 
think  so  ?" 

"  Pardon  me,  my  dear  Countess  — 


THE  DESTROYER. 


she  struck  me  as  extremely  elegant 
and  beautiful,"  I  answered,  with  suf- 
ficient want  of  tact. 

"Rather  pretty,  certainly  —  she's 
only  seventeen,  poor  thing,"  drawled 
the  Countess,  immediately  changing 
the  subject. 

I  could  not  help  feeling  nnich  in- 
terest in  the  poor  girl,  thrust  thus,  in 
the  first  agonies  of  her  grievous  be- 
reavement, into  a  soil  and  atmosphere 
ungenial  and  even  noxious  —  into  a 
family  that  at  once  disliked  and 
dreaded  her.  What  a  life  seemed 
before  her !  But,  I  reflected,  the 
conflict  may  be  painful,  it  cannot  be 
long.  Lady  Hetheringham  cannot 
utterly  exclude  her  niece  from  socie- 
ty;  and  there,  once  seen,  she  must 
triumph.  And  so,  indeed,  it  hap- 
pened ;  for  in  less  than  six  months 
after  the  period  of  her  arrival  at  her 
uncle's,  she  began  to  go  out  freely 
into  society  with  his  family  ;  it  hav- 
ing been  considered  by  her  prudent 
and  affectionate  relatives,  that  the 
sooner  this  young  creature  could  be 
got  off  their  hands  the  better.  The 
Earl  and  his  Countess,  indeed,  began 
to  feel  some  apprehensions  now  and 
then  lest  one  of  their  niece's  male 
cousins  —  the  eldest,  possibly,  might 
feel  rather  more  attachment  towards 
her  than  mere  relationship  required. 
She  was  directed,  therefore,  to  apply 
herself  diligently  to  ihe  completion  of 
her  education,  in  which  she  had  al- 
ready made  rapid  progress,  which, 
together  with  her  natural  talents,  soon 
rendered  her  independent  of  the  fash- 
ionable instructors  who  taught  her 
cousins.  Miss  Annesley  was,  in 
trutli,  a  creature  of  much  enthusiasm 
of  character  ;  of  a  generous  and  con- 
fiding nature,  a  sanguine  tempera- 
ment—  fond  withal  of  admiration, 
as  w  lo  is  not  of  either  sex?  She 
felt  in  her  element  in  the  glittering 
society  in  which  she  now  ince.'isantly 
appeared,  or  rather  into  which  she 
was  forced.     She  breathed  freely,  for 


glorious  was  the  contrast  it  affxirded 
to   the   chilling,    withering    restraint 
and  coldness  that  ever  awaited  her  at 
her  uncle's.     There  she  but  too  sor- 
rowfully  felt    herself  an    intruder  — 
that  her  uncle  and  aunt  were  stirring 
heaven  and  earth   to   get   rid   of  her. 
Many  a  bitter  hour  did  she  pass  alone 
when  she    reflected    upon    this,    and 
saw  no  course  open  to  her  but  to  se- 
cond the    exertions    of  iier  heartless 
relatives,   and    be    emancipated  from 
the  bitter  thraldom  by  almost  any  one 
who  chose  to  make  the  attempt.   Her 
anxieties  on  this  score  laid  her  open 
to  the  imputation  of  being  little  more 
than  a  brilliant  flirt  or  coquette,  than 
which    certainly    nothing    could     be 
more  distant  iVom   the  wishes  or  re- 
pugnant to  the  feelings  of  poor  Miss 
Armesley.     She  saw   that    her  uncle 
and  aunt  could  have   encouraged  the 
advances    of   any    one    that    seemed 
likely  to  propose  for  a  beautiful   but 
penniless  orphan,  and  was  almost  dis- 
posed to  gratify  them.     What  sort  of 
life  would  not  be  preferable  to  that  of 
her  present  bitter  dependence  1  Alas, 
how  generous,  how  noble  a  heart  was 
thus  trifled  with  —  was  thus  endang- 
ered, if  not  even   directly   betrayed, 
by  those   whose    sacred   duty  it   was, 
whose   pride    and    delight    it   should 
have  been,  to  regard  and  cherish  it! 
Hov.'ever  pure,  however  high-minded, 
a  girl  of  Miss  Annesley's  youth  and 
inexperience,  of  her    eager  and   fer- 
vent temper  and  character,  could  not 
but  be  exposed   to    imminent  danger, 
when  thrust  thus  into  such  scenes  as 
are  afforded  by  the  fashionable  socie- 
ty of  the  metropolis.      Poor    Emma  ! 
No   eye  of  zealous  and  vigilant  affec- 
tion   followed    thee   when  wandering 
through  these  dazzling  mazes  of  dis- 
sipation   and   of  danger  !      Anxious, 
however,    as    were    Lord    and    Lady 
Hetheringham     to    get    rid    of  their 
lovely  charge,   their   efforts  were  un- 
successful. Two  seasons  passed  over, 
and  their  niece,  though  the  admired 


8 


THE  DESTROYER 


of  all  beholders,  uUerly  eclipsing  her 
iinpntieut  and  envious  cousins,  seem- 
ed unlikely  to  form  an  alliance,  wlie- 
llier  owing  to  the  incessant  and  wide- 
ly prop;ig!iled  sneers  and  injurious 
falsehoods  of  her  five  rivals,  the  ill- 
dis;ruised  coldness  and  dislike  of  the 
Eurl  and  Countess,  or,  above  all,  to 
lier  want  of  fortune.  Many  who  ad- 
mire<I  her,  and  felt  disposed  to  pay 
Jier  decisive  attentions,  were  deterred 
by  the  fear  that  a  young  woman,  of 
her  family,  station,  beauty  and  ac- 
complishments, was  an  object  far  be- 
yond their  reach  ;  while  others  sighed, 

'•  Sighed  and  looked,  sighed  and  looked,  and 
sighed  again ; " 

and  feared,  that  if  she  brought  her 
husband  no  fortune,  she  nevertheless 
was  perfectly  able  and  disposed  to 
spend  his.  Conquests,  in  the  ordi- 
nary phrase,  she  made  innumerable, 
and  was  several  times  mentioned  in 
the  newspapers  a.s  "  likely  to  be   led 

to  the  hymeneal  altar  "  by  Lord , 

Sir ,  the    Honorable  Mr.  , 

and  so  forth.  As  far,  indeed,  as  ap- 
pearances went,  there  was  some 
ground  for  each  of  these  rumors.  Miss 
Anneslcy  had  many  followers,  most 
of  whom  were  sufliciently  gratified 
by  havinrr  their  names  associated  in 
fashionable  rumor  with  that  of  so  dis- 
tinguished a  beauty.  The  only  one, 
however,  of  all  these  trifierswho  over 
established  anything  like  an  interest 
in  her  he  irt,  was  the  elegant  and  well 
known  Alverley  ;  a  man  whose  fasci- 
nating a[)pearance  and  manners  FOon 
distanced  the  pretensions  of  all  those 
who  ain)cd  at  an  object  he  had  se- 
lected. Alverley  was,  when  he  chose, 
irresistible.  Ho  could  inspire  the 
woman  he  sought  with  a  conviction 
that  he  loved  her  passionately,  throw- 
ing a  fervor  and  devotion  into  his 
manner  which  few,  very  few  women, 
and  no  young  woman,  could  resist. 
Poor  Miss  Annesley  fancied  that  this 
envied    prize   was   hers  ;  that  he  was 


destined  to  be  led  "  a  graceful  cap- 
tive at  her  chariot-wheels;"  that  he 
was  the  gallant  knight  who  was  to  de- 
liver her  from  bondage.  Here,  too, 
however,  she  was  destined  to  meet 
with  disappointment;  the  distinguish- 
ed Alverley  disappeared  from  among 
the  throng  of  her  admirers  quite  sud- 
denly ;  the  fact  being,  that  in  a  con- 
fidential conversation  with  one  of  her 
cousins,  in  a  quadrille,  he  had  be- 
come satisfied  that  it  was  undesirable 
for  him  to  prosecute  any  farther  his 
disinterested  attentions  in  that  quar- 
ter. Miss  Annesley  felt  his  defection 
more  keenly  than  that  of  any  other  of 
her  transient  admirers.  Her  eager 
feelings,  her  inexperienced  heart, 
would  not  permit  her  to  see  how  ut- 
terly unworthy  was  one  who  could 
act  thus,  of  even  a  moment's  regret. 
Alas!  her  bright  spirit  had  not  fair 
play  !  His  graceful  person,  his  hand- 
some and  expressive  features,  his  fas- 
cinating manners,  could  not  so  easily 
be  banished  from  her  young  heart; 
and  her  grief  and  mortification  were 
but  little  assuaged,  perhaps,  however, 
her  v/ounded  pride  might  be  soothed, 
by  the  intimation  Alverley  contrived 
to  have  conveyed  to  her,  from  several 
quarters,  that  her  regrets  fell  infinite- 
ly short  of  the  poignancy  of  his  own, 
in  being  compelled  by  others,  on 
whom  his  all  depended,  to  abandon 
the  dearest  hopes  he  had  ever  cher- 
ished. 

Thus  it  was  that  Miss  Annesley  and 
her  heartless  and  selfish  relatives  be- 
held two  seasons  pass  away  without 
any  prospect  of  their  being  perma- 
nently released  from  one  another's 
presence  and  society:  an  infinite  gra- 
tification did  the  pfior  irirl  experience 
in  being  invited  to  spend  the  autumn 
of  18 —  with  a  distant  relative  of  La- 
dy Hctheringham's,  in  a  remote  part 
of  England.  This  lady  was  the  wi- 
dow of  a  general  officer,  and  during 
her  stay  in  town  that  season  had 
formed  an   attachment  towards  Miss 


THE  DESTROYER. 


Annesley,  whose  painful  position  in 
the  Earl's  family  she  soon  ])erceived 
and  compassionated  ;  therefore  it  was 
that  her  invitation  had  been  given, 
and  she  felt  delighted  at  securing  the 
society  of  her  young  and  brilliant 
guest  during  the  tedious  autumn  and 
winter  months. 

Miss  Annesley  proved  herself  to 
be  possessed  of  a  warm  and  affec- 
tionate heart,  in  addition  to  beauty 
and  accomplishments,  and  every  day 
increased  the  attachment  between 
them.  These  six  months  were  the 
happiest  Miss  Annesley  had  ever 
known.  Before  returning  to  town, 
an  event  she  dreaded,  a  very  eligible 
offer  of  marriage  was  made  to  her  by 
a  relative  of  her  hostess,  who  hap- 
pened to  be  quartered  with  his  regi- 
ment in  her  immediate  neighborhood. 
Major  St.  Helen.  He  was  an  amia- 
ble, high-spirited  man,  of  excellent 
family,  in  easy  circumstances,  and 
with  considerable  expectations.  His 
features,  though  not  handsome,  were 
manly  and  expressive  ;  his  figure  was 
tall  and  commanding,  his  manners 
frank,  his  disposition  affectionate  ;  — 
his   suit  was   supported  by  Miss  An- 


nesley's  kind  liostess,  and  before  her 
returning  to  town,  he  gained  the  pro- 
mise of  her  hand.  The  more,  in- 
deed, she  knew  of  him,  and  learned 
of  his  character,  the  more  confidently 
she  committed  herself  to  him  ;  she 
became  sincerely  and  affectionately 
attached  to  him,  who  loved  her  so 
evidently  with  fervor  and  enthusiasm. 
In  about  a  twelvemonth's  time  she 
was  married  to  him  —  in  her  twenti- 
eth year,  he  being  about  ten  years 
her  senior,  from  the  Earl  of  Hether- 
ingham's.  J  was  present,  and  never 
saw  a  lovelier  bride;  how  distinctly, 
even  at  this  distance  of  time,  is  her 
figure  before  my  mind's  eye !  As  the 
uncle,  who  felt  as  if  a  thorn  had  at 
length  been  plucked  out  of  his  side, 
led  her  down  to  the  travelling  car- 
riage that  was  in  readiness  to  convey 
them  away,  I  was  one  of  the  last  to 
whisper  a  hasty  benison  into  the  ear 
of  the  trembling  blushing  girl.  Gra- 
cious Heaven!  could  either  of  us  at 
that  moment  have  lifted  the  veil  of 
futurity,  and  foreseen  her  becoming 
the  subject  of  this  melancholy  and 
dreadful  history  ! 


CHAPTER    II 


MY     FIRST     CALL 


AnouT  three  years  afterwards  was 
born  (he  little  patient  I  was  now  on 
my  way  to  visit.  During  this  consid- 
erable interval  I  had  almost  lost  sight 
of  them ;  for  Major,  since  become 
Colonel  St.  Helen,  after  a  year's  tra- 
vel on  the  continent,  purchased  the 
delightful  residence  to  which  we  were 
so  hastily  driving,  and  where  their 
little  son  and  heir  was  born.  Here 
they  lived  in  delightful  retirement  — 
only  occasionally,  and  for  very  short 
periods,  visiting  the  metropolis  ;  the 
chief  reason  being  Mrs.  St.  Helen's 
reluctance  to  renew  her  intercourse 
with  Lord  and  Lady  Hetheringham, 
or  any  member  of  their  family.  It 
was  evident  from  our  conversation,  as 
we  drove  down,  that  their  attachment 
towards  each  other  continued  unabat- 
ed. The  only  drawback  upon  their 
happiness  was  a  fear  tliat  he  might 
be,  ere  long,  summoned  upon  foreign 
service.  When  within  about  a  mile 
of  Densleigh,  our  conversation,  as  if 
by  common  consent,  dropped,  and  we 
leaned  back  in  the  corners  of  the  car- 
riage in  silence  ;  he,  doul)tlcss,  occu- 
pied with  anxieties  about  his  little 
son,  and  the  probable  state  of  matters 
he  should  meet  on  reaching  home;  I 
sinking  into  a  reverie  upon  past  times. 
I  was  anxious  to  .see  again  one  in 
whom  I  had  formerly  felt  such  inter- 
est, and  fell  happy  at  her  good  for- 
tune, not  oidy  in  escaping  the  dan- 
gers to  which  she  had  been  exposed, 
but  in  making  so  happy  a  marriage. 

"  Heavens  !  "  exclaimed  the  Colo 
nel,  suddenly,  who  had  been  for  the 
last  few   minutes  incessantly  pulling 


his  head  out  of  the  window —  "  look 
—  they  are  "  —  his  keen  eye  had  dis- 
covered two  female  figures  stat)ding 
at  the  outer  gate  opening  upon  the 
high  road — "Drive  on,  coachman, 
for  God's  sake  !  " 

"Don't  alarm  yourself,  Colonel," 
said  I  ;  adding,  as  we  drew  near 
enough  to  distinguish  one  of  the  fig- 
ures pushing  open  the  gate,  and  step- 
ping into  the  road  towards  us  —  "  for 
one  of  them  can  be  no  other  than 
Mrs.  St  Helen  ;  and  the  other  is  her 
maid,  with  my  little  patient  in  her 
arms  —  i)ositively  !  Ha,  ha,  Colonel  ! 
That  looks  very  much  like  scarlet  fe- 
ver or  measles." 

"  Certainly  you  are  right,"  replied 
the  Colonel,  with  a  sigh  that  seemed 
to  let  off  all  his  anxiety.  That  is  my 
wife  indeed,  and  the  child;  there  can 
be  no  mistake  —  but  how  can  they 
think  of  venturing  out  till,  at  all 
events,  they  are  "  — 

Though  I  was,  at  the  moment,  ra- 
tiier  vexed  at  having  come  so  far,  at 
such  inconvenience,  too,  I  soon  made- 
up  my  mind  to  it,  and  felt  glad  at  the 
o])porlunity  of  seeing  how  the  beau- 
tiful Miss  Annesley  would  show  in 
the  character  of  Mrs.  St.  Helen  —  a 
mother. 

"  You  nmst  give  these  poor  beasts 
a  little  refreshment.  Colonel,  before 
I  can  take  them  back,  and  me  a  lit- 
tle luncheon,"  said  I,  with  a  smile, 
looking  at  my  watch. 

"  Certainly  —  oh,  of  course  !  For- 
give me,  <lear  Doctor,  for  having  been 
so  nervous  and  precipitate.  But  you 
are   a    falher   yourself.     'Tis  all   my 


THE  DESTROYER. 


11 


wife's  fault,  I  can  assure  you,  and  I 
shall  tell  her  she  must  make  the  apol- 
ogy due  for  bringing  you  down  from 
London  for  nothing.  The  fact  is, 
that  /  never  thought  there  was  any- 
thing the  matter  with  the  child;  — 
which  was,  I  thouglu,  a  very  great 
mistake  of  the  Colonel's. 

"  I  assure  you  I  am  infinitely  bet- 
ter pleased  to  have  the  opportunity  of 
seeing  Mrs.  St.  Helen  again,  and  in 
health  and  spirits,  than  to  see  her 
plunged  into  distress  by  the  illness  of 
her  child  —  so  pray  say  no  more 
about  it." 

As  we  approached,  Mrs.  St.  Helen 
hastily  gave  her  parasol  into  the  hands 
of  the  maid,  from  whose  arms  she 
snatched  the  child,  and  walked  quick- 
ly up  to  the  carriage  door,  as  we 
drew  up.  For  a  moment  T  quite  for- 
got the  errand  on  which  I  had  come, 
as  close  before  me  stood  the  Emma 
Annesleyof  a  former  day,  a  thousand 
times  more  lovely  to  my  eye  than  I 
had  ever  seen  her.  She  wore  a  white 
loose  bonnet,  of  transparent  white 
crape,  and  her  shawl,  which  had  been 
displaced  in  the  hurry  of  seizing  the 
child,  hung  with  graceful  negligence 
over  her  shoulders,  to  infinite  advan- 
tage, displaying  a  figure  of  ripening 
womanhood  :  the  young  mother,  proud 
of  the  beautiful  infant  she  bore  in  her 
arms  —  her  Expressive  features  full  of 
animation  ;  altogether  she  struck  me 
as  a  fit  subject  for  one  of  those  airy 
and  exquisite  sketches  with  which  Sir 
Thomas  Lawrence  was  then  occa- 
sionally delighting  the  world. 

"Oh,  Doctor ,"  she  com- 
menced, in  the  same  rich  voice  I  so 
well  remembered,  holding  out  one  of 
her  hands  to  me  as  I  descended  the 
carriage  steps — "I  am  so  delighted 
to  see  you  again  ;  but  really,"  looking 
at  her  husband,  "  Arthur  did  so  fright- 
en me  about  the  child,  and  I  am  not 
a  wery  experienced  mother  ;  but  I  sup- 
pose it's  the  same  with  all  fathers  — 
alarmed  at  such  trifles"  — 


"Really,  Emma,  this  is  capital," 
interrupted  the  Colonel,  half  piqued 
and  half  pleased,  while  I  could  not 
help  laughing  at  them  both,  "  so  it 
was  / —  but  who  was  it,  Emma,  that 
came  rushing  into  my  dressing  room 
this  morning,  her  hair  half  en  papil- 
lote  ?  " 

"  Arthur,  don't  be  absurd;  there's 
no  need." 

"  Well,  I  forgive  you  !  It  was  all 
my  fault;  but,  thank  God,  here's  the 
young  hero,  seemingly  as  well  as  ever 
he  was  in  his  life:  many,  many  hap- 
py returns." 

"  'Tis  his  birth-day,  Doctor,"  in- 
terrupted Mrs.  St.  Helen,  eagerly, 
with  a  sweet  smile. 

The  Colonel  took  the  child  out  of 
his  mother's  arms  and  kissed  him 
heartily.  "But  what  apology  can  we 
make,  Emma,  to  Doctor 1" 

"Oh,  don't  say  a  syllable.  I  am 
sincerely  glad  that  I  have  come,  and 
more  so,  that  there  was  not  the  neces- 
sity for  it  you  supposed.  My  dear  Mrs. 
St.  Helen,  how  glad  I  am  to  see  you," 
I  continued,  as  she  took  my  arm,  the 
Colonel  proceeding  on  with  the  child 
in  his  arms,  who  seemed,  however, 
anxious  to  get  back  to  his  nurse.  "  I 
have  often  thought  of  you,  and  won- 
dered where  you  had  hid  yourselves. 
But  before  we  talk  of  past  times,  let 
me  hear  what  it  was  that  so  alarmed 
you  about  that  sweet  little  child?  " 

"Oh  —  why,  I  suspect  it's  all  my 
fault,  Doctor  —  I  was  very  foolish; 
but  we  do  so  love  him  that  we  are  afraid 
of  the  least  thing.  He's  so  beautiful 
that  T  fear  we  shall  lose  him ;  he's 
too  good;   we  should  be  too  happy." 

"  All  mothers,  Mrs.  St.  Helen,  say 
that;  but  I  want  to  hear  whether  we 
are  right  in  dismissing  all  anxiety 
about  tlie  appearances  that  so  alarm- 
ed you  this  morning." 

"I'm  quite  ashamed  of  it.  It  was 
evidently  n(»thing  but  a  little  redness 
on  his  forehead,  which  was  occasion- 
ed, no  doubt,  by  the  pressure  of  the 


12 


THE  DESTROYER. 


pillow,  and  it  quite  disappeared  be- 
fore the  colonel  had  been  gone  half 
an  hour  ;  and  the  nurse  did  not  tell 
me  till  afterwards  ;  and  we  had  no  man 
here  at  the  lime  to  ride  after  the  co- 
lonel ;  and  so  "  pushing  about  the  end 
of  her  parasol  upon  the  grass,  and 
lookinif  down,  as  we  slowly  followed 
the  colonel  towards  the  house.  I 
laughed  heartily  at  the  kind  of  sheep- 
ish air  with  which  she  confessed  the 
slight  occasion  there  hud  been  for  her 

o  ... 

alarm.  She  began  again  to  apologise : 

"  Pho,  pho,  my  dear  Mrs.  St.  Helen, 
this  has  happened  to  me  more  than  a 
hundred  times;  but  never  when  I  less 
regretted  it  than  I  do  now.  1  have  had 
a  delightful  drive,  and  I  have  seen 
you  looking  so  well  and  happy  ;  you 
cannot  think  how  rejoiced  I  am  on 
your  account.  What  a  contrast  is 
your  present  life  to  that  you  led  at  the 
Earl  of  Iletheringham's  !  You  must 
be  as  happy  as  the  day  is  long." 

"  And  so  indeed  I  am !  I  never 
never  knew  what  real  happiness  was, 
till  I  knew  Colonel  Si.  Helen  !  We 
liave  never  had  a  difference  yet.  He 
worships  the  very  ground  "  —  She 
paused,  hung  her  Jiead,  and  her  eyes 
filled  with  tears. 

*'  He  looks  quite  the  soldier,"  said 
I,  glancing  at  his  tall  and  erect  figure. 

"  Oh,  yes,  and  he  is!  He  has  the 
noblest  disposition  in  the  world  !  so 
generous,  and  as  simple  as  the  little 
creature  that  he  carries.  You  would 
hardly  think  him  the  same  man  when 
he  is  at  home,  that  at  the  head  of  his 
regiment  looks  so  cold,  and  stern  and 
formal.  And  he  is  brave  as"  —  her 
beautiful  features  were  turned  to- 
wards me,  flushed  with  excitement. 
"  Do  you  know  he's  been  in  three  en- 
gagements, and  I  have  heard  from  se- 
veral officers  that  he  is  one  of  the 
most  desperate  and  fearless  "  — 

"  Ah,  yj)u  recollect  those  beautful 
jines,  Mrs.  St.  Helen,"  said  I : 

"■  The  warrior's  heart  wl»en  touched  by  me. 
Can  as  downy,  soft  and  yielding  be, 


As  his  own  white  plume  that  high  amicF 

death, 
Tluoufjh  the  field  has  shone,  yet  moves  with 

a  breath  1  " 

Her  eyes  were  fixed  intently  on  me 
while  I  repeated  these  lines,  filled  with 
tears  as  I  concluded,  and  she  spoke 
not.  "  Where  are  these  lines  ?  "  she 
began  at  length;  but  ashamed  of  her 
yet  unsubdued  emotion,  she  quickly 
turned  aside  her  head,  and  left  the 
sentence  unfinished.  Her  little  do<r 
that  came  scampering  down  toward* 
us  happily  turned  her  thoughts. 

"  How  very,  very  ridiculous  !  "  she 
exclaimed,  half  laughing,  half  crying, 
pointing  to  a  light  blue  ribbon  tied 
round  the  dog's  neck,  in  a  large  knot 
or  bow,  the  little  animal  now  frisking 
merrily  about  her,  and  then  rolling 
about  on  the  grass,  evidently  not 
knowing  what  to  make  of  his  gay 
collar.  "The  fact  is,  Doctor,  that 
this  being  our  little  boy's  first  birth- 
day, my  maid  has  determined  that 
even  the  dog  —  Down,«Fan  !  down! 
you  little  impudent  creature;  go  and 
run  after  your  young  master  ;  "  and 
away  bounded  Fan,  leaving  us  once 
more  alone. 

"  When  did  you  hear  of  the  Heth- 
eringhams  last  ?  " 

"Oh,  by  the  way,"  she  answered 
eagerly,  "only  a  day^or  two  ago. 
And  what  do  you  think?  Did  you 
read  that  account  of  the  elopement  in 
the  papers  with  such  numbers  of  stars 
and  initials  ?" 

"  Certainly  I  recollect ;  but  whom 
do  they  mean  ?  " 

"  My  fair  proud  cousin,  Anne  Sed- 
ley,  and  the  youngest  officer  in  Ar- 
thur's regiment.  Who  would  have 
thought  it  !  She  was  always  the  most 
unkind  of  any  of  them  towards  me  ; 
but  I  am  not  the  less  sorry  for  her. 
Nothing  but  misery  can  come  of  arj 
elopement ;  and  how  they  arc  to  live 
1  do  not  know,  for  neither  of  them 
has  anything." 

"  You   see   very  little  of  the  Earl 


THE  DESTROYER. 


13 


and  Countess,  or  your  cousins,  I  sup- 
pose, now  1  ■' 

"  We  have  scarcely  met  since  we 
were  married,  and  we  don't  regret  it. 
Arthur  does  not  like  any  of  them,  for 
I  could  not  help  telling  him  how  they 
had  treated  me  ;  and,  besides,  we  see 
nobody,  nor  do  we  wish,  for  we  are 
not  yet  tired  of  each  other,  and  have 
plenty  to  d.»  at  home  of  one  kind  or 
another.  In  fact,  we  have  only  one 
thing  that  distresses  us,  a  fear  lest  the 
Colonel  may  be  ordered  to  join  his 
regiment  and  go  abroad.  Oh !  we 
tremble  at  the  thought,  at  least  I  am 
sure  that  I  do;  especially  if  it  should 
happen  before  November,"  she  added 
faintly  coloring  I  understood  her  de- 
licate intimation  that  she  bade  fair  to 
become  again  a  mother  and  told  her  so. 
"  What  should  I  do,  in  my  situation, 
all  alone  here:  my  husband  gone,  per- 
haps, never  to  return.  1  assure  you 
it  often  makes  me  very  sad  indeed  ; 
but  here  he  comes." 

"Why,  Emma!  How  serious!  Pos- 
itively in  tears  !    What,  have  you  been 

regrttting  to   Doctor  that  you 

have  not  got  a  patient  for  him  1  " 

"  No,  dearest  Arthur;  the  fact  is 
we  have  been  talking  overpast  times! 
I  was  telling  him  how  happy  we  were 
in  our  solitude  here  "  — 

"  But,  1  dare  say  Doctor ,  with 

myself,"  said  the  Colonel,  quickly,  ob- 
serving Mrs.  St.  Helen  not  yet  to  have 
entirely  recovered  from  her  emotion, 
"  will  not  think  the  worse  of  Dens- 
leigh  when  we've  had  a  little  lunch." 

"  Well,  I'll  rejoin  you  in  a  few 
minutes,"  interrupted  Mrs.  St.  Helen, 
turning  from  us. 

"  Aha,"  said  the  Colonel,  as  he  led 
me  into  the  room  where  lunch  was 
spread ;  "  she's  gone  to  look  after 
Master  St.  Helen's  dinner,  I  suppose  : 
we  shan't  see  her  this  quarter  of  an 
hour  !  He  must  never  eat  a  mouthful 
without    her    seeing    it !     We   won't 

wait,  Doctor ,"  and  we  sat  down, 

for  I  had  really  not   much    time  to 


lose.  Denslcigh  certainly  was  a  de- 
lightful residence  —  happily  situated, 
and  laid  out  with  much  taste  and  ele- 
gance. The  room  in  which  we  were 
sitting  at  lunch  opened  upon  a  soft 
green,  sloping  down  to  the  banks  of 
a  pleasant  stream,  and  commanded  an 
extensive  prospect,  of  which  Mrs.  St. 
Helen  had  recently  completed  a  very 
beautiful  uater-color  sketch,  which 
was  suspended  near  where  I  sat. 

"  You  must  come  some  day,  doctor, 
and  see  Emma's  port-feuille  —  for  she 
really  draws  very  beautifully.  I'll 
try  to  get  a  sight  of  the  picture  she 
has  nearly  finished  of  our  little  Ar- 
thur—  by  Heaven,  'tis  perfection!  " 

Here  Mrs.  St.  Helen  made  her  ap- 
pearance ;  Master  St.  Helen  had  made 
a  very  hearty  dinner,  and  Emma  was 
again  in  high  spirits,  and  I  persuaded 
her  to  take  a  glass  of  wine  with  me, 
but  not  to  give  me  a  sight  of  the  mys- 
teries which  the  Colonel  had  spoken 
of  She  would  not  for  the  world  let 
me  see  her  half-finished  daubs,  and  so 
forth  ;  and  as  for  the  others  she  would 
show  them  all  to  me  the  next  time  I 
came,  &,c.  &;-c.  All  lady-artists  are 
alike,  so  I  did  not  press  the  matter. 
A  pleasant  hour  I  passed  at  Densleigh 
—  thinking  where  was  happiness  to  be 
found,  if  not  there!  I  was  not  al- 
lowed to  leave  before  I  had  premised, 
never  to  come  within  a  mile  or  two 
without  calling  upon  them.  They  at« 
tended  me  to  the  door,  where  were 
drawn  up  my  carriage  and  the  pony 
phaeton  of  Mrs.  St.  Helen,.wiih  two 
beautiful  little  greys,  which  also  were 
bedight  with  the  light  blue  ribbons. 
Master  St.  Helen  and  his  maid  were 
already  seated  in  it,  and  I  saw  that 
Mrs.  St.  Helen  longed  to  join  them. 
Ah,  you  ore  a  happy  woman,  thought 
I,  as  1  drove  off;  you  ought  indeed  to 
feel  gratefid  to  Heaven  for  having 
cast  your  let  in  pleasant  places.  Long 
may  you  live,  the  pride  cf  your  hus- 
band—  mother,  it  may  be,  of  a  lace 
of  heroes ! 


CHAPTER   III. 


THE       DEI'ARTUnr,  . CAPTAIN      ALVERLEV. 


About  six  months  nfterwards,  my 
eye  lit  upon  the  following  announce- 
ment in  one  of  the  newspapers  :  — 
"  On  the  2d  instant,  at  Densleigh 
Grange,  the  lady  of  Colonel  St.  Helen 
of  a  son."  I  discovered,  upon  inquiry, 
that  both  mother  and  child  were  doing 
well,  although  the  event  so  dreaded 
by  Mrs.  St.  Helen  had  come  to  pass, 
and  very  greatly  affected  her  spirits  ; 
the  Colonel  was  ordered,  with  his  reg- 
iment, upon  foreign  service.  She  had 
nearly  succeeded  in  persuading  him 
to  quit  the  army;  and  it  required  all 
the  influence  of  his  most  experienced 
personal  friends,  as  well  as  a  tolera- 
bly distinct  intimation  of  opinion  from 
the  Royal  Commander-in-Chief  at  the 
Horse  Guards,  to  prevent  him  from 
yielding  to  her  entreaties.  His  desti- 
nation was  India  ;  and  with  a  heavy 
heart,  six  weeks  before  her  accouche- 
ment took  place,  he  bade  her  adieu, 
feeling  that,  too  probably,  it  was  for 
ever  I  He  could  not,  however,  tear 
Itimself  away ;  twice  did  he  return 
suddenly  and  unexpectedly  to  Dens- 
leigh, after  having  taken,  as  he  had 
thought,  a  final  farewell.  She  insist- 
ed on  retinning  with  him  to  London, 
and  witnessing  his  departure.  When 
it  had  taken  place,  she  returned  to 
Densleigh,  and  for  awhile  gave  her- 
self up  to  the  most  violent  emotions 
of  grief  Dreading  the  consetpiences 
to  her,  in  her  critical  circumstances, 
Mr.  Ogilvie,  the  sister  of  Colonel  St. 
Helen,  came  down  to  Densleigh,  and 
succeeded  in  bringing  Mrs.  St.  Helen 
up  to  town  with  her,  hoping  that  a 
change  of  scene  and    the  jjaicties  of 


the  metropolis  might  aid  in  recruiting 
her  agitated  spirits,  and  thereby  pre- 
pare her  for  the  trial  she  had  so  soon 
to  undergo.  She  had  not  been  long 
in  London  before  she  prevailed  upon 
Mrs.  Ogilvie  to  drive  with  her  to  the 
Horse-Guards,  and  endeavor,  if  pos- 
sible, to  gain  some  intelligence  as  to 
the  probable  duration  of  her  husband's 
absence,  and  of  the  nature  of  the  ser- 
vice in  which  he  was  to  be  employed. 
Her  heart  almost  failed  her  when  the 
carriage  drew  up  at  the  Horse-Guards. 
With  some  trepidation  she  gave  the 
servant  a  card  bearing  her  name,  on 
which  she  had  written  a  few  lines 
stating  the  inquiry  she  had  called  to 
make,  and  desired  him  to  take  and 
wait  with  it  for  an  answer.  "  His 
Royal  Highness  will  send  to  you, 
Ma'am,  in  a  few  moments,"  said  the 
servant,  on  his  return.  Presently  an 
officer  in  splendid  uniform  was  seen 
approaching  the  carriage  ;  he  was  an 
aide-de-camp  of  the  Commander-in- 
Chief,  and  Mrs.  St.  Helen,  with  some 
additional  agitation,  recognized  in 
him,  as  he  stood  before  her,  Captain 
Alverlev.  To  her  indeed  it  was  a  most 
unexpected  meeting  ;  and  he  seemed 
not  free  from  embarrassment. 

"  His  Royal  Highness  has  directed 
me  to  inform  vou,  '  said  he,  bowing 
politely,  "  that  he  regrets  being  una- 
ble to  receive  you,  as  he  is  now  en- 
gaged with  important  business.  He 
also  directs  me  to  say,  in  answer  to 
your  inquiry,  that  Colonel  St.  Helen's 
stay  will  probably  not  exceed  three 
years."  While  he  was  yet  speaking 
Mrs.  St.  Helen,  overcome  with  agita- 


THE  DESTROYER. 


15 


tioTi,  hastily  bowed  to  him,  ordered 
the  coachman  to  drive  on,  and  sunk 
back  on  lier  seat  exhausted. 

"  Emma  !  Emma  !  what  can  you 
mean?"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Ogilvie  with 
mucli  displeasure  ;  "  I  never  saw  sucfi 
rudeness  !  Yes,"  looking  back  towards 
the  IIorse-Guards,  "  he  may  well  be 
astonished  !  I  declare  he  is  still  stand- 
ing thunder-struck  at  your  most  ex- 
traordinary behavior !  " 

"I  —  J  cannot  help  it,"  murmured 
Mrs.  St.  Helen  faintly,  "  I  thought  I 
should  have  fainted.  He  so  reminded 
me  of  Arthur  ;  and,  did  you  observe," 
she  continued, sobbing,  "nothing  was 
said  about  the  nature  of  the  service  ! 
Oh,  I  am  sure  I  shall  never  see  him 
again  !  I  wish,  I  wish,  I  had  not 
called  at  the  odious  place  —  I  might 
have  then  hoped  ! "  A  long  drive, 
however,  through  a  cheerful  part  of 
the  suburbs,  at  length  somewhat  re- 
lieved her  oppression  ;  but  it  was  evi- 
dent, from  her  silence  and  her  absent 
manner,  that  her  thoughts  continued 
occupied  with  what  she  had  seen  and 
heard  at  the  Horse  Guards. 

Captain  Alverley  did  stand  thunder- 
struck, and  continued  so  standing  for 
some  moments  after  the  carriage  had 
driven  out  of  sight.  Had  I  then  seen 
him,  and  known  that  of  his  character 
which  I  now  know,  I  should  have 
been  reminded  of  the  poet's  descrip- 
tion of  the  deadly  serpent  — 

"  Terribly  beautiful  the  serpent  lay, 
Wreathed  like  a  coronet  of  gold  and  jewels 
Fit  for  a  tyrant's  brow  ;  anon  he  flew, 
Straight  like  an  arrow  shot  from  his  own 
wings !  " 

—  or  rather  it  might  have  appeared 
as  though  the  rattle-snake  were  stun- 
ned for  an  instant  by  the  suddenness 
of  the  appearance  of  his  beautiful  vic- 
tim. No ;  the  fatal  spring  had  not 
yet  been  made,  nor  had  as  yet  the 
fascination  of  that  death-dooming  eye 
been  felt  by  the  victim  ! 


Almost  immediately  upon  Colonel 


St.  Helen's  arrival  in  India,  he  was 
hurried  into  action  ;  and  in  little  more 
than  a  year  after  his  departure  from 
England,  the  Gazette  inade  most  hon- 
orable mention  of  his  name,  as  con- 
nected with  a  very  important  action 
in  the  Mahratta  war.  I  could  easily 
contrive,  I  thought,  to  call  to-day  up- 
on Mrs.  St.  Helen,  and  so  be,  per- 
haps, the  first  to  show  her  the  Gazette, 
and  I  made  my  arrangements  accord- 
ingly. Putting  the  important  docu- 
ment in  my  pocket,  I  drove  in  the  di- 
rection of  Densleigh,  having  a  patient 
in  the  neighborhood.  I  left  my  car- 
riage in  the  road,  and  walked  up  the 
avenue  to  the  house.  I  trod  so  noise- 
lessly upon  the  "  soft  smooth-shaven 
green,"  that  my  approach  was  not 
perceived  by  the  occupants  of  the 
room  in  which  we  had  lunched  on 
the  occasion  already  noticed.  They 
were  Mrs.  St.  Helen  and  her  littleson 
Arthur.  The  latter  was  evidently 
acting  the  soldier,  having  a  feather 
stuck  in  his  cap,  and  a  broad  red  rib- 
bon round  his  waist,  to  which  was 
attached  a  sword  ;  and,  in  order  to 
complete  his  resemblance  to  the  fig- 
ure of  an  officer,  he  had  a  drum  fast- 
ened in  front  of  him,  to  the  harmoni- 
ous sound  of  which  he  was  marching 
fiercely  round  the  room  ;  while  his 
mother,  her  beautiful  countenance 
turned  fully  and  fondly  towards  him, 
was  playing  upon  the  piano,  "  See 
the  conquering  hero  comes  !  "  She 
perceived  me  approach,  and  started 
for  a  moment  ;  but  hastily  motioning 
me  not  to  appear  and  disturb  what 
was  going  on,  I  stepped  aside. 

"  And  what  does  brave  papa  do, 
Arthur  1  "  said  she,  ceasing  to  play. 
He  stopped,  dropped  his  drum-sticks, 
drew  his  little  sword  with  some  dif- 
ficulty from  its  sheath,  and  after  ap- 
pearing to  aim  one  or  two  blows  at 
some  imaginary  enemy,  returned  it 
to  its  scabbard,  and  was  marching 
with  a  very  digniged  air  past  his  mo- 
ther, when    she    rose    from  her  seat, 


IG 


THE  DESTROYER. 


and  suddenly  cidspiug  the  young  war- 
rior ill  lier  arms,  smothered  him  with 
kispcs. 

"  Pray  walk  in,  dear  Doctor,"  said 
she,  api)r(<achiiig  ine,  alter  setting 
down  tlie  child,  "  forgive  a  poor  lone- 
ly mother's  weakness." 

"  So  tlien  you  have  heard   of  it  ?  " 

"  Heard  of  what  ?  "  she  inquired, 
hurriedly,  slitrhtly  changing  color.  I 
took  out  the  Gazette.  "Oh,  come  in, 
come  in,  and  we'll  sit  down — I  — 
I  begin  to  feel  —  rather  faint ;  "  her 
eyes  fastened  upon  the  paper  I  held  in 
my  hands.  We  sat  down  together 
upon  the  sofa.  As  soon  as,  with  the 
aid  of  a  vinaigrette,  she  had  recovered 
a  little  from  her  agitation,  I  read  to 
her,  who  listened  breathless,  the  very 
flattering  manner  in  which  Colonel 
St.  Helen's  conduct,  in  a  most  san- 
guinary action,  was  mentioned  in  the 
despatch,  with  the  gratifying  addition 
that  his  name  was  not  included  in  the 
list  of  either  killed  or  wounded.  "  Oh, 
my  noble,  gallant  Arthur,"  she  mur- 
mured, bursting  into  tears,  "  I  knew 
he  would  acquit  himself  well.  I  won- 
der, Arthur,  if  he  thought  of  us, 
when  he  was  in  the  field !  "  snatching 
up  her  son,  who,  with  his  little  hands 
resting  on  her  lap,  stood  beside  her, 
looking  up  concernedly  in  her  face, 
and  folding  him  to  her  bosom.  A 
Hood  of  tears  relieved  her  excitement. 
She  kissed  the  Gazette,  and  thanked 
me  warmly  for  having  brought  it  to 
her.  She  presently  rung  the  bell,  and 
desired  the  butler  to  be  sent  for,  who 
soon  made  his  appearance. 

"  Arc  they  at  dinner  ?  "  she  intjuir- 
ed.  Ho  bowed.  '"  Then  give  them 
two  bottles  of  wine,  and  let  them 
drink  their  master's  health;   for"  — 

She  could  not  finish  the  sentence, 
and  I  added  for  her :  "  Colonel  St. 
Helen  has  been  engaged  in  a  glorious 
action,  and  gained  great  distinction." 

"I'll  give  it,  ma'am — sir — I  will," 
interrupted  the  impatient  butler  ;  — 
"  we'll  bo  sure  to  drink   inv  master's 


health,  ma'am,  his  best  health,  and 
yours,  ma'am,  and  the  young  gentle- 
man ;  Lord,  sir,  it  couldn't  be  other- 
wise !     Is  master  hurt,  sir  1  " 

"  Not  a  hair,  I  believe,"  I  answer- 

"  Lord  Almighty  !  "  he  exclaimed, 
unconsciously  snapping  his  fingers  as 
his  hands  hung  down,  "  only  to  think 
of  it,  ma'am,  how  glad  you  must  be, 
ma'am,  and  young  master  there, 
ma'am  ;  but  how  could  it  be  other- 
wise, ma'am  ?  " 

"  Thank  you,  Bennet,  thank  you  t 
make  yourselves  happy,  for  I  am  sure 
I  am,"  replied  Mrs.  St.  Helen,  as  well 
as  her  agitation  would  allow  her,  and 
the  butler  withdrew.  Poor  Mrs.  St. 
Helen  asked  me  a  hundred  questions, 
which  I  had  no  more  means  of  an- 
swering than  herself;  and,  in  short, 
was  evidently  greatly  excited.  As  I 
stood  at  the  open  window,  which 
opened  on  the  lawn,  admiring  for  a 
moment  the  prospect  it  commanded, 
my  eye  caught  the  figure  of  a  cavalry 
officer  in  undress  uniform,  followed 
by  his  groom,  cantering  easily  to- 
wards Densleigh. 

"  Who  can  this  be,  Mrs.  St.  Hel- 
en 1"  said  I,  pointing  liim  out  to  her, 
as  she  rose  from  the  sofa. 

"Who,  Doctor?  where?"  she  in- 
quired hastily. 

"  It  is  an  officer  in  undress  uni- 
form, evidently  coming  hither;  I  sup- 
pose he  brings  you  official  informa- 
tion." At  that  moment  the  api>roach- 
ing  figures  were  again,  for  an  instant 
visible  at  a  sudden  turn  of  the  road  ; 
and  Mrs.  St.  Helen,  slightly  changing 
color,  exclaimed,  with,  as  I  thought, 
a  certain  tremor  easily  accotmted  for, 
"  Oh,  yes,  I  know  who  it  is  :  Captain 
Alverley,  aide-de-camp  to  the  Com- 
mander-in-Chief; no  doubt  he  comes 
to  tell  me  what  I  know  already  through 
your  kindness;  and  —  he  may  also 
bring  me  letters." 

"  Very  possibly.  Well,  dear  Mrs. 
St.  Helen,  I  most  cordially  congratu- 


THE  DESTROYER. 


17 


late  you  on  this  good  news  ;  but  pray 
don't  siifTcr  yourself  to  be  excited," 
said  I,  taking  my  hat  and  stick. 

"  Don't,  don't  hurry  away,  Doctor," 
she  replied.  I  took  her  hand  in  mine. 
It  was  cold  and  trembled.  I  hastily 
repeated  my  advice,  having  already 
Btaid  longer  than  my  engagements  al- 
lowed. As  I  reached  my  carriage, 
Captain  Alverley  —  if  such  was  the 
officer's  name  —  was  just  entering 
the  gate,  which  his  groom  was  hold- 
ing open  for  him. 

"  Well,"  thought  I,  as  I  drove  off, 
**  if  I  were  Colonel  St.  Helen,  and  six 
or  seven  thousand  miles  off,  I  should 
not  exactly  prefer  a  tete-a-tete,  even 
on  the  subject  of  my  own  magnificent 
exploits,  between  my  beautiful  wife 
and  that  handsome  officer,"  for  cer- 
tainly, as  fur  as  my  hurried  scrutiny 
went,  I  never  had  seen  a  man  with  a 
finer  person  and  air,  or  a  more  pre- 
possessing countenance.  That  was 
the  first  time  I  had  ever  seen  or  heard 
of  Captain  Alverley. 

Some  little  time  after  this  occur- 
rence, the  death  of  an  elder  brother 
entitled  Colonel  St.  Helen  to  an  in- 
come of  several  thousands  a-year  and 
a  house  in  the  immediate  neighbor- 
hood of  Berkely  Square.  This  was 
an  event  the  Colonel  had  anticipated 
before  leaving  England,  as  his  brother 
had  long  been  in  a  declining  state  of 
health  ;  and  he  had  arranged  with  his 
solicitor  and  man  of  business,  that 
should  the  event  take  place  before  the 
expiration  of  the  term  for  which  he 
held  Densleigh,  efforts  were  to  be 
made  to   continue  the  lease,  and  the 

house  in Street  was    to  be  let, 

but  not  for  longer  than  three  years. 
If,  however,  Densleigh  could  not  be 
secured  for  a  further  lease,  then  Mrs. 

St.  Helen  was  to  occupy Street 

till  the  Colonel's  return  to  England. 
Colonel  St.  Helen's  brother  died  short- 
ly before  the  lease  of  Densleigh  ex- 
pired, and  its  proprietor,  wishing  to 


live  in  it  himself,  declined  to  renew 
the  lease.  The  necessary  arrange- 
ments were  therefore  made  for  re- 
moving Mrs.  St.  Helen,  with  her  es- 
tablishment   to  Street,  a  noble 

residence,  which  the  Colonel  had  left 
orders  should,  in  the  contingency 
which  had  happened,  be  furnished  en- 
tirely according  to  Mrs.  St.  Helen's 
wishes.  He  had  also  made  the  pro- 
per arrangements  for  putting  her  in 
possession  of  an  additional  allowance 
of  ^2000  a-year ;  and  under  the  ju- 
dicious superintendence  of  his  solici- 
tor, all  these  arrangements  w  ere  spee- 
dily and  satisfactorily  carried  into  ef- 
fect ;  and  Mrs.  St.  Helen  was  duly 
installed  the  mistress  of  her  new  and 
elegant  residence,  with  a  handsome 
equipage,  a  full  retinue  of  servants, 
and  a  clear  income  of  .£3,500  a-year, 
including  her  former  allowance.  Oh, 
unhappy,  infatuated  husband,  to  have 
made  such  an  arrangement  I  Would 
that  you  had  never  permitted  your 
lonely  wife  to  enter  such  scenes  of 
dazzling  danger  —  that  you  had  ra- 
ther placed  her  in  secret  retirement 
till  your  return  —  far  from  the  "  gar- 
ish eyes  of  the  world  — even  in  some 
lone  sequestered  spot " 

"  WTiere  glide  the  sunbeams  through  the 
latticed  boughs, 

And  fell  like  dew-drops  on  the  spangled 
ground. 

To  light  the  diamond-beetle  on  his  way ; 

Where  cheerful  openings  let  the  sky  look 
down 

Into  the  very  heart  of  solitude, 

On  little  garden-plots  of  social  flowers. 

That  crowded  from  the  shades  to  peep  at 
daylight ; 

Or  where  impermeable  foliage  made 

Midnight  at  noon,  and  chili  damp  horror 
reign 'd 

O'er  dead  fallen  leaves  and  shining  fungu- 
ses ;  " 

—  any  ivherehvii  in  London.  It  was 
done,  however,  at  the  impulse  of  a 
generous  confiding  nature  —  though 
in  fatal  error  —  for  the  best ' 


CHAPTER    IV. 


A       LONDON      SEASON DANGER 


I  WAS  driving  liome  down  —  street 
one  evening  alone,  on  my  return  from 
a  dinner  purty,  when  I  was  stopped 
for  a  moment  by  a  crowd  of  carriages 

opposite  Lady 's  ;  and  recollected 

that  I  had  promised  to  look  in,  if  pos- 
sible. I  therefore  got  out,  and  made 
my  way  as  soon  as  I  could  into  the 
crowded  mansion.  Can  any  thing  be 
absurder  than  such  a  scene?  I  al- 
ways disliked  balls  and  routs  ;  but 
such  as  these  must  be  perfectly  intol- 
erable, I  fancy,  to  any  sober,  rational 
person.  It  was  full  five  minutes  be- 
fore I  could  force  my  way  up  stairs 
and  along  the  spacious  landing,  to 
the  door  of  the  principal  room,  into 
which  "all  the"  unhappy  "  world  " 
had  squeezed  itself,  and  was  under- 
going purgatory.  How  many  hun- 
dreds of  ladies'  maids  and  valets 
would  have  gone  distracted  to  see 
their  mistresses  and  masters  so  una- 
ble to  display  their  handiwork  :  stand- 
ing januned  together  I  but  this  is  en- 
joyment and  fashion :  why  should  I 
find  fault  with  those  who  experience 
pleasure  in  such  scenes?  After  gaz- 
ing on  the  glistening,  confused  scene 
for  a  monient,  admiring  the  fortitude 
of  those  who  were  enduring  the  heal 
and  pressure  without  a  murmur,  per- 
ceiving no  one  I  knew,  at  least  with- 
in speaking  distance,  I  passed  on  to- 
wards another  room,  in  search  of  La- 
dy   ,  whom  I  wished  to  show  that 

I  had  kept  my  promise.  The  second 
room  was  much  less  crowded,  and 
real,  not  make-believe,  dancing  was 
going  forward. 

"  She's  very  beautiful,  is  she  not?" 


said  a  gentleman  just  before  me,  to 
one  of  two  ladies  who  leaned  upon 
his  arm,  and  who  seemed  looking  cri- 
tically at  the  dancers, —  "  Y-e-s,  ra- 
ther," was  the  answer,  in  a  languid, 
drawling  tone. 

"  Waltzes  well  enough,"  said  the 
other  lady,  "  but  for  my  part  I  quite 
dislike  to  see  it." 

"Dislike  to  see  it?  You  joke," 
interrupted  the  gentleman  ;  "  why  do 
you  dislike  it?  Upon  my  honor,  I 
think  it's  quite  a  treat  to  see  such 
waltzing  as  theirs." 

"  Oh,  I  dare  say  it's  all  correct 
enough,  if  one  comes  to  that.  I  must 
own  I  should  not  waltz  myself,  if  I 
were  married,"  said  the  glistening 
skeleton  on  his  right  arm,  dropping 
its  elaborately  dressed  head  with  a 
would-be  noive  air.  The  ladies  were 
two  of  the  daughters  of  the  Earl  of 
Ilctheringliam  :  I  knew  not  who  the 
gentleman  \t^is. 

"  Really,  I  must  say  it's  too  bad, 
under  circumstances,"  said  one  of 
the  ladies,  disdainfully  eyeing  a  cou- 
ple who  were  floating  gracefully  round 
the  room,  and  who  presently  stopped 
in  front  of  where  I  was  standing,  the 
lady  apparently  exhausted  for  the  (no- 
ment  with  her  exertion.  The  reader 
may  guess  my  feelings  on  recognizing 
in  these  waltzers,  Captain  Alverley 
and  Mrs.  St.  Helen  !  Fearful  of  en- 
countering her  eye,  I  slipped  away 
from  where  I  had  been  standing,  but 
not  before  I  heard  one  of  the  fair  cri- 
tics, immediately  before  whom  the 
pair  of  waltzers  were  standing,  ad- 
dress her  with  a  sweet  air,  and  com- 


THE  DESTROYER. 


1» 


jjliment  her  on  her  performance!  At 
a  little  distance  I  continued  to  ol)- 
serve  her  niovernenls.  She  was  dress- 
ed magnificently,  and  became  her 
<lres9  magnificently.  She  was  cer- 
tainly the  most  beautiful  wMinaii  in 
the  room  ;  and  with  her  companion, 
■who  was  in  full  regimentals,  one  of 
«he  most  conspicuous  couples  present. 
After  a  few  minutes^  pause,  sj>ent  in 
«(Vnvers4iig  with  her  two  affectionate 
coasins,  she  suffered  her  partner  gent- 
ly to  lead  her  off  again  among  the 
^valtzers.  I  could  not  help  following 
her  motions  with  mingled  feelings  of 
pity  and  indignation.  I  resolved  to 
throw  myself  in  her  way  before  quit- 
ting the  room,  and  for  that  purpose 
stepped  in  front  of  the  circle  of  by- 
■standers.  I  knew  a  little  of  Captain 
Alverley's  character,  at  least,  by  his 
reputation  ;  and  recollected  tl»e  agi- 
tation his  approach  had  occasioned 
her,  on  my  pointing  out  his  figure  to 
her  at  Densleigh.  There  were  four 
-or  five  couples  waltzing^  and  those 
whom  I  was  so  eagerly  observing,  a 
second  time  stopped  immediately  in 
front  of  where  I  now  stood:  he  apol- 
ogizing for  the  force  with  which  he 
had  come  against  me.  She,  too,  ob- 
■served  it,  and  turned  her  head  to  see 
to  whom  her  partner  had  apologized. 
The  instant  she  recognised  me,  her 
features  became  suffused  with  crim- 
ison.  Her  companion  observed  it,  and 
iooked  at  me  with  a  surprised  and 
haughty  air,  as  if  designing  to  dis- 
courage me  from  speaking  to  her.  I 
was  not,  however,  to  be  deterred  by 
«uch  a  trifle, 

"  How  are  you.  Doctor  ?  "  said,  or 
rather  stammered  Mrs.  St.  Helen, 
giving  me  her  hand,  which  1  tlu^ught 
trembled  a  little. 

''  When  did  you  hear  from  the  Co- 
lonel la&'t?"  1  inquired  presently,  dis- 
•regarding  the  insulting  air  of  impa- 
tience manifested  by  Captain  Alver- 
]ey,  who  could  not  avoid  observing 
ihe  slight  agitation   and   surprise  my 


presence  had  occasioned  his  beautiful 
partner. 

"  Oh  —  I  heard  from  India  —  not 
for  several  months;  oh,  yes,  I  did, 
about  six  weeks  ngo.  He  was  very 
well  when  he  wrote."  Partly  with 
the  fatigue  of  waltzing,  and  partly 
through  mental  discomposure,  she  was 
evidently  agitated.  She  would  have 
continued  her  conversation  with  me, 
but  Captain  Alverley  insisted  on  tak- 
ing her  in  quest  of  a  seat  and  of  re- 
freshment, l  soon  after  quilted  the 
house,  without  any  further  attempt  to 

see  Lady ;  and  my  thoiights  were 

so  much  occupied  with  tlie  casual 
rencontre  I  have  just  described,  that  I 
walked  several  paces  down  tfie  street, 
on  my  way  hon>e,  before  I  recollected 
that  my  cnrria^  was  waiting  for  me, 
I  had  seen  nothing  whatever  that  was 
directly  improper,  and  yet  I  felt,  or 
grieved  as  though  I  had.  Good  Cod! 
was  this  the  way  in  which  Mrs.  Sl 
Helen  testified  her  love  for  her  gene- 
rous, confiding  husband  ;  for  him  who 
had  so  affectionately  secured  her,  by 
anticipation,  the  means  of  enjoying 
his  expected  accession  of  fortune  ;  for 
him  who  was  at  that  moment,  possi- 
bly, gallantly  charging  in  aetion  with 
the  enemies  of  his  country;  or  who 
mighthave  already  received  the  wound 
which  rendered  her  a  widow  an<l  her 
children  fatherless?  What  accursed 
influence  had  deadened  her  keen  sen- 
sibilities—  had  impaired  her  delicate 
perception  of  propriety  ?  I  began  to 
fee!  heavy  misgivings  about  this  Cap- 
tfiin  Alverley  ;  inshort  I  reached  home 
full  of  vexing  tlKxtghts,  for  Airs.  St. 
Helen  had  suddenly  sunk  mnny,  ma- 
ny degrees  i«  my  estimatidn.  She 
did  not  iippear  to  me  to  be  the  same 
woman  that  I  had  seen  some  twelve 
months  befiire  at  Densleigh  :  the  ten- 
der mother,  the  enthusiastic  wife  — 
what  had  come  to  her  ? 

I  thought  it  not  improbable  that  I 
should,  in  the  morning,  receive  a  mes- 
sage from  her  requesting  a  visit  dur- 


^ 


y 


to 


THE  DESTROYER' 


ing  the  day ;  and  I  was  not  mistaken, 
for  while  silting  at  breakfast,  her  ser- 
vant br<»iight  n>e  a  note  to  that  effect, 
requesting  me  to  call,  if  convenient, 
before  one  o'clock.  I  foresaw  thai 
our  interview  would  be  of  a  different 
description  to  any  former  one.  How- 
ever uneasy  I  felt  on  her  account,  I 
did  not  desire  to  be  placed  in  the  dis- 
agreeable position  of  receiving  expla- 
nations and  excuses  which  nothing 
had  called  forth  but  her  ovvn  con- 
sciousness of  impropriety,  and  my  in- 
voluntary air  of  astonishment  on  the 
preceding  evening.  I  had  so  many 
engagements  that  day,  that  it  was 
nearly  two  o'clock  before  I  could 
reach  Mrs.  St.  Helen's.  She  sat  in 
ihe  drawing-room,  with  her  sister-in- 
law,  Mrs.  Ogilvie,  who  had  called 
about  an  hour  before:  a  very  elegant 
sweet  woman,  some  ten  or  twelve 
years  her  senior.  I  had  evidently  in- 
terrupted an  unpleasant  interview  be- 
tween them  ;  for  the  former  was  in 
tears,  and  the  latter  looked  agitated  ; 
while,  consequently,  all  of  us  looked 
rather  enibarrassed. 

"  Doctor ,"  said  Mrs.  St.  He- 

hn,  quickly,  after  a  few  ordinary  in- 
quiries, '•  now,  do  pray  tell  me,  did 
pou  see  any  thing  objectionable  in 
my  " 

"  Emma!  how  can  you  be  so  fool- 
ish? "  interrupted  Mrs.  Ogilvie,  ris- 
ing, with  much  displeasure.  "  I  am 
really  extremely  vexed  with  you  !  " 
and  sl>e  quitted  the  room  without  re- 
garding Mrs.  St.  Helen's  intreaties 
that  slhc  would  stay.  I  should  have 
liked  to  follow  her,  or  that  she  had 
remained  during  my  brief  visit.  I 
proceeded  immediately,  with  a  mat- 
ter of  fact  air,  to  make  a  few  profes- 
sional inquiries. 

"  But,  my  dear  Doctor ,"  said 

.she,  earnestly,  without  answering  my 
questions,  "  do  tell  me  candidly,  what 
(fid  you  see  so  very  particular  —  and 
amiss,  in  my  conduct,  hist  night  ?  " 

*' What   did  I    see    amiss?     Dear 


Mrs.  St.  Helen,  you    amaze  me  f     E 

had  not  been  at  Lady  's  above  a 

minute  or  two  before  we  met,  and  I 
left  almost  directly  after  " 

"Then  what  did  your  look  meant 
Do,  dear  I>octor,  tell  me  what  that 
look  meant?  I  really  could  not  help 
observing  it,  and  I  can't  forget  it." 

"  Mrs.  St.  Helen !  you  really  quite 

—  you  must  have  strangely  mistaken 
my  looks." 

"  Perhaps  you  don't  —  I  suppmse — 
that  is,  1  know  what  you  meant ;  was  it 
that  you  didn't  admire  married  wo- 
men waltzing?  Now,  do  tell  me,  for 
I  feel  quite  unhappy." 

"  Well,  since  you  are  so  vert/  anx- 
ious to  know  my  opinion,  I  have  no 
hesitation  in  saying  a  " 

"  Oh,  pray  go  on.  Doctor,"  inter- 
rupted Mrs.  St.  Helen   impatiently. 

"  Why,  all  I  was  going  to  say  is, 
that  I  do  not  feel  particularly  pleased 

—  but  I  may  be  quite  absurd,  at  see- 
ing married  women  waltzing,  espe- 
cially JJiothrrs." 

"  Dear  Doctor,  and  why  not  1  You 
can't  think  how  much  I  respect  your 
opinion  ;  but  surely,  good  heavens  ! 
what  can  there  be  indelicate" 

"  Mrs.  St.  Helen  !  I  did  not  use  the 
word." 

"  Well,  but  I  know  you  meant  it  ; 
why  won't  you  be  candid,  now.  Doc- 
tor ?  But  had  yoH'  no  other  reason  ?  " 
Her  eyes  filled  with  tears. 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  St.  Helen  !  what 
reason  could  I  possibly  have  ?"  I  in- 
terrupted gravely,  wishing  to  put  an 
end  to  what  threatened  to  become  a 
very  unpleasant  discussion.  "  I  have- 
given  you  ar>  answer  to  the  strange 
question  you  asked ;  and  now  sup- 
pose "  

"  Oh,  Doctor,  it  is  useless  to  at- 
tempt putting  me  off  in  this  way  —  I 
can  read  a  look  as  well  as  any  one. 
I  nuist  have  been  blind  not  to  see 
yours.  The  fact  is,  I  suppose"  — 
she  raised  her  handkerchief  to  her 
eyes,  which  were  again  beginning  to* 


ITHE  DESTROYER. 


m 


glisten  with  tears,  "  if  you  would  but 
■be  honest  —  did  you  not  think  I  was 
wrong  in  wahzing  when  my  husband 
—  is  aJ>roa<]  and —  and  i«  danger  1  " 
■She  sobbed. 

"  Really,  Mrs.  St.  Helen,  you  will 
persi^'t  in  making  my  position  her*  so 
unpleasant,  that  I  must  indeed  take 
my  leave."  At  that  iuoment  I  heard 
the  sound  of  a  horse's  feet  approach- 
ing in  the  street.  Mrs.  vSt.  Helen 
heard  it,  too;  and  hurrying  to  the 
■bell,  puUed  it  with  undisguised  trepi- 
dation. As  soon  as  the  servant  en- 
tered, she  said  in  a  vehement  tone, 
*'  Not  at  home  I  Not  at  home  !  "  In 
spite  of  her  efforts  to  conceal  it,  she 
tremWed  vioknt^y,  and  her  face  be- 
•came  paler  than  before.  Determined 
to  ascertain  whether  or  not  my  sud- 
•den  suspicions  were  correct,  I  rose, 
intending  to  walk  to  the  window, 
when  I  expected  to  see  Captain  Al- 
verley  ;  but  she  prevented  me,  doubt- 
'less  purposely,  extending  her  arm  to- 
wards me  and  begging  me  to  feel  her 
pulse  So  I  was  kept  engaged  till  I 
heard  the  hall  door  closed,  a^fter  an 
evident  parley,  and  the  retreating  of 
the  equestrian  \'isitef.  I -had  been  re- 
■quested  to  call  before  one  o'clock  :  it 
was  now  past  two :  had  she  engaged 
to  ride  out  with  Captain  Alverley  ? 

"  Well,  what  do  you  think  of  my 
3)ulse,  Doctor?"  inquired  Mrs.  St. 
Helen,  breathing  more  freely,  but 
>still  by  BO  means  cailm. 

"  AVhy,  it  shows  a  high  state  of 
^nervous  irritability  and  excitement, 
Mrs.  St.  Helen." 

"  Very  probably  ;  and  no  wonder  I 
People  are  so  cruel  and  so  scanda- 
lous." She  burst  into  tears.  "  Here's 
tny sister  been  lecturing  me  this  hour, 

half  killing  me!     She  insists" 

^'  Pray  restrain  your  feelings,  Mrs. 
St.  Helen  !  Why  all  this  agitatioH  I 
I  am  not  your  father  confessor,"  said 
I,  endeavoring  to  assume  a  gay  air. 
Mrs.  St.  Helen  paused,  and  sobbed 
foeavily. 


*'  She  tells  me  that  my  behavior  is 
so  —  so  light,  that  I  am  getting  my- 
self talked  about."  She  seemed  ex- 
ceedingly distressed.  "Now,  dear 
Doctur,  if  you  really  love  «ie  as  a  ve- 
ry, very  old  friend —  I'm  sure  I  love 
1/ou  —  do  tell  me  candidly,  have  i/ou 
ever  heard  any  thing  ?  " 

"Never,  Mrs.  St.  Helen,  I  solemn- 
ly assure  you,  have  I  heard  your  name 
mentioned  to  my  k«o\vledge,  till  last 
night,  when  I  overhear^d  two  ladies, 
who  seemed  to  be  -wondering  at  your 
waltzing  "  — — 

"Oh,"  she  interrupted  me  w\X% 
great  vivacity,  "  I  know  who  they 
were!  My  cousins!  My  sweet, 
good-natured  coasins  —  Oh,  the  vi- 
pers !  Wherever  I  go  they  hiss  at 
me.     But  I'il    endure    it  no  longer  1 

I'll  drive    to  Square    this  very 

day,  and  insist " 


"  If  you  do,  Mrs.  St.  Helen,  and 
mention  one  syllable  of  what  I  have 
perhaps  unguardedly  told  you,  and 
what  I  could  not  help  overhearing, 
we  never  meet  again." 

"Then  what  am  I  to  do?  "  she  ex- 
claimed passionately.  "  Am  I  to  en- 
dure all  this?  Must  I  suffer  myself 
to  be  slandered  with  impunity?  " 

"God  forbid,  Mrs.  St.  Helen,  that 
you  should  be  slandered." 

"  Then  what  am  I  to  do  ?  " 

"Give  no  occasion,"  I  answered, 
more  dryly,  perhaps,  than  I  had  in- 
tended. 

"  Give  no  occasion,  indeed  !  '* 
echoed  Mrs.  St.  Helen,  with  an  in 
dignant  air,  rising  at  the  same  time, 
and  walking  rapidly  to  and  fro.  "And 
who  says  that  I  ever  have  given  oc- 
easion  ?  "  fixing  her  bright  eye  upon 
me  with  a  kind  of  defiance. 

"  Mrs.  St.  Helen,  you  greatly  griev^ 
and  surprise  me  by  all  this.  You  ask 
me  again  and  again  for  an  answer  to 
a  very  strange  question,  and  when  at 
length  you  get  one,  you  are  affronted 
with  me  for  giving  it.  I  decJare  that 
J  know  nothing  whatever  about  your 
8  mM  b^jlaiirib 


•22 


THE  DESTROYER. 


conduct  one  way  or  (he  other.  But 
since  you  hnve  forced  me  to  speak, 
very  reluctnnllv  —  for  I  have  no  busi- 
ness to  enter  into  such  matters  —  I 
can  but  repent  what  T  have  said,  that 
if  the  tongue  of  scandal  and  envy  is 
busy  witi)  you,  you  must  be  extraor- 
dinarily on  your  guard  to  Jet  your 
conduct  give  them  the  lie  !  " 

"  My,  dear  Doctor,"  said  she,  sud- 
dejily  resuming  her  seat,  and  speak- 
ing in  the  sweetest  and  most  sorrow- 
ful tone  of  voice,  "I  —  I  will  be  more 
guarded  ;  I  —  I  will  not  waltz  again." 
Sobs  prevented  her  going  on.  I  took 
her  hand  cordially. 

"  I  am  delighted  to  hear  you  say  so, 
Mrs.  St.  Heleti.  I  know  well  your 
high  honor,  your  purity  of  principle  ; 
but,  believe  me,  your  innocent,  un- 
suspecting frankness  may  yet  expose 
you  often  to  danger.  Why  may  I  not 
lell  you  the  feelings  of  my  heart,  dear 
Mrs.  St.  Helen  ?  they  are  towards 
you  more  those  of  a  father,  than  a 
friend  or  physician.  You  are  young, 
why  should  I  not  tell  you  what  you 
■know?  you  are  very  l>eautiful;  "  she 
i)uried  her  face  in  her  hands  and  sob- 
■bed  almost  convulsively.  *' The  men 
of  the  world,  of  fashion,  into  whose 
way  you  have  been  lately  so  much 
ihrown,  are  often  very  unprincipled 
and  base ;  they  may,  with  subtle 
wickedness,  contrive  snares  for  you 
that  your  innocent  inexperience  can- 
not detect  till  perhaps  too  late."  She 
involuntarily  squeezed  my  hand,  for  I 
«till  held  hers,  but  attempted  no  re- 
ply. "  Now,  may  I  tell  you  what  was 
really  passing    through    my  mind  last 

night  at  Lady 's  ?  "     She  spoke 

not,  but  continued  her  face  in  her 
liandkerchief  "  I  was  thinking  that 
perhaps  at  the  moment  you  were  be- 
ing whirled  round  the  room  by  that 
Captain  Alverley,  your  gallant  hus- 
band, charging  at  the  head  of  his  re- 
giment, might  be  tumbling  dead  from 
bis  hor.se." 

"  Ah  I  and  so  did  I  the  moment  I 
saw  you  I  "  almost  shrieked  Mrs.  St. 


Helen,  suddenly  raising  her  pallid 
face  from  the  handkerchief  in  which 
it  had  been  buried.  1  had  the  great- 
est difficulty  in  preventing  her  going 
off  into  violent  hysterics.  After  a 
long  struggle  with  her  tumultuous 
feelings,  "  O,  Arthur!  Arthur !  "  she 
exclaimed  in  such  a  tone  as  brought 
the  tears  suddenly  into  my  eyes  ;  "  if 
I  have  ever  wronged  you  in  thought, 
in  word,  or  in  deed  !  " 

"  Impossible  !  perfectly  impossi- 
ble !  "  I  exclaimed  with  energy  in  a 
cheerful,  exulting  tone. 

"  No  !  "  she  exclaimed,  sitting  sud- 
denly upright,  while  a  noble  expres- 
sion beamed  in  her  excited  features, 
which  were  blanched  with  her  vehe- 
ment emotions.  "  No !  I  am  his 
wife!  I  am  the  mother  of  his  chil- 
dren !  I  have  not'betrayed  them.  I 
will  not!" 

I  looked  at  her  with  astonishment; 
the  wild  smile  passed  quickly  from 
her  pallid,  beautiful  countenance,  and 
she  sunk  back  on  the  sofa  in  a  swoon. 
I  instantly  summoned  assistance,  and 
her  maid,  with  one  or  two  other  fe- 
male servants,  presently  entered  hast- 
ily with  water  and  smelling-salts." 

*'  I  knew  she  was  ill,  sir,"  said  her 
maid  Joyce  :  "  she's  not  been  quite 
herself  I  may  say  this  several  weeks. 
This  constant  going  out  at  nights 
doesn't  do  for  her,  and  I've  often  told 
her  so,  sir  !  " 

"  I  suppose  she  goes  out  a  great 
deal  in  tlie  evenings  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  sir  ;  three  or  four  times 
a-week,  and  oftener,  sir." 

"  Is  it  generally  late  before  she 
comes  back  ?  " 

"  Never  hardly  before  three  or  four 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  sir;  and  so 
tired  and  knocked  up,  as  one  may 
say."  Here  Mrs  St.  Helen  began  to 
revive.  She  seemed  very  much  an- 
noyed when  she  had  thoroughly  re- 
covered her  consciou.sness,  at  being 
surrounded  by  the  servants.  After 
giving  a  few  directions,  I  left,  prom- 
ising to  call  again  in  a  day  or  two. 


€HAPTER     V 


THE    I)ESTROYE«. 


TTuuEE  or  four  times  a-week  and 
oftener  !  The  words  rung  in  my 
ears  long  after  Mrs.  St.  Helen  was 
out  of  sight.  Was  this  the  same  wo- 
man that  had  once  inquired  with  such 
a  passionate  air  whether  Colonel  St. 
Helen  ever  thought  of  her  and  her 
children  when  he  was  going  to  the 
field,  and  surrounded  by  death  1  How- 
would  that  gallant  heart  of  his  have 
been  wrung,  at  such  a  moment,  had 
he  known  in  what  manner  she  con- 
ducted herself  during  his  absence! 
Despite  what  had  recently  passed  be- 
tween us,  I  trembled  for  Mrs.  St.  He- 
len ;  I  knew  not  how  far  she  might  be 
already  committed,  to  what  extent  her 
light  and  thoughtless  behavior  might 
have  given  encouragement  to  those 
ever  ready  to  take  advantage  of  such 
conduct :  her  emotions  had  been  vio- 
lent, and  were  no  doubt  genuine;  and 
yet  the  agonies  I  had  been  witnessing 
might  be  litttle  else  than  the  mere 
spasms  of  declining  virtue! 

Of  Captain  Alverley,  the  Honorable 
Charles  Alverley,  I  regret  that  I  should 
have  to  speak  at  any  length.  But  I 
must :  he  is  one  of  the  main  figures 
in  this  painful  picture;  he  is  the  De- 
stroyer. He  belonged  to  a  high  fa- 
mily, was  a  well-educated  and  ac- 
complished man,  of  handsome  person 
and  an  irresistible  address  ;  yet,  ne- 
vertheless, as  heartless  a  villain  as 
ever  existed.  He  was  a  systematic 
seducer.  The  fair  sex  he  professed 
to  idolize ;  yet  he  could  not  look  up- 
on them  but  with  a  lustful  and  cor- 
rupting eye.  He  was  proverbial 
for   his  gallantries;  he  made  every- 


thing subservient  to  them.  His  cha- 
racter was  well  known,  and  yet,  alas! 
he  was  everywhere  esteemed  in  soci- 
ety, in  whose  parlance  he  was  a  gen- 
tleman !  Who  could  resist  the  gay, 
the  bland,  the  graceful  Alverley,  with 
his  coronet  in  expectation  ? 

Why,  asks  one  in  happy  ignorance 
of  the  world  about  him,  is  such  a 
wretch  created,  and  suffered  to  infest 
the  fairest  regions  of  humanity  ?  It 
might  as  well  be  asked,  why  has  the 
Almighty  created  the  cobra  or  the 
crocodile  ! 

Captain  Alverley,  as  already  inti- 
mated, had  excited  a  strong  interest 
in  Miss  Annesley's  heart  before  she 
had  ever  seen  or  heard  of  Colonel  St. 
Helen.  Having  discovered  her  want 
of  fortune,  he  withdrew  on  the  plea 
already  mentioned,  from  the  compe- 
tition for  her  hand,  but  he  never  lost 
sight  of  her.  He  had,  in  fact,  deter- 
mined, come  what  would,  on  effecting 
the  ruin  of  Mrs.  St.  Helen  ;  and  he 
set  to  work  patiently,  and,  as  he  often 
considered,  sciaitificaUy.  It  has  been 
supposed,  though  with  what  truth  I 
know  not,  that  he  had  something  or 
other  to  do  with  poor  Colonel  St.  He- 
len's sumnnons  upon  foreign  service  ; 
and  the  moment  he  had  sailed,  the 
fiend  commenced  his  operations.  They 
were  long  retarded,  however,  by  the 
strictly  secluded  life  Mrs.  St.  Helen 
led  at  Densleigh,  occupied  with  her 
holy  and  happy  n)aternal  duties. 
Would  to  Heaven  that  she  had  never 
quitted  the  one,  or  been  diverted, 
ev^i  for  a  moment,  from  the  perform- 
ance of  the  other  !     The  accidental 


24 


THE  DESTROYER. 


recontre  at  the  Horse  Guards  I  have 
already  mcDtioned.  The  iiistaot  that 
he  waa  commissioned  by  his  Royal 
master  to  bear  a  kind  message  to 
Mrs.  St.  Helen,  he  determined  upon 
the  demeanor  he  should  assutne:  one 
at  once  delicate  and  deferential,  and 
fraught  with  sympathy  for  her  evident 
suffering.  Observing  her  agitation, 
he  did  not  attemj)t,  by  a  look  or  ■■'. 
word,  to  remind  her  that  they  had 
ever  met  before  ;  confining  himself, 
with  perfect  tact,  to  the  delivery  of 
the  message  with  which  he  had  been 
charged.  When  Mrs.  St.  Helen  ab- 
ruptly drove  off,  in  the  manner  alrea- 
dy described,  his  vile  heart  leaped  for 
jo}'.  His  practised  eye  saw  that  her 
agitation  was  n(jt  cntirdy  attributable 
to  the  errand  on  which  she  had  come. 
He  certainly  had  remained  standing 
in  the  manner  Mrs.  Ogilvie  had  des- 
cribed ;  but  it  was  not  in  astonish- 
ment, he  was  pondering  what  had  just 
happened  ;  and  in  a  few  moments  re- 
turned to  the  room  he  had  quitted, 
with  a  flush  on  his  countenance,  and 
the  consciousness  that  he  hnd  com- 
menced his  infernal  campaign.  Some 
six  or  eight  months  afterwards,  a  pac- 
ket arrived  at  the  Horse  Guards  from 
India,  enclosing  a  letter  which  the 
writer.  Colonel  St.  Helen,  begged 
might  be  thrown  into  the  post  for 
Mrs.  St.  Helen.  Of  this,  however. 
Captain  Alverley  look  charge,  and 
that  very  afternoon  rodo  down  to 
Densleigh,  and  delivered  it  wiib  his 
own  hands  into  those  of  the  servant, 
"  with  Captain  Alverley's  compli- 
ments," when  he  rode  off.  He  justJy 
considered  that  his  delicacy  in  doing 
BO  could  not  but  be  appreciated.  It 
was  so!  Had  Mrs.  St.  Helen  then 
closely  and  faithfully  examined  her 
heart,  in  order  to  ascertain  the  exact 
nature  of  her  feelings  on  finding  that 
Captain  Alverley  had  himself  brought 
her  a  letter  with  tlie  immediate  re- 
ceipt of  which  he  supposed  she  could 
be  so  much  gratified,  and  that  he  had 


abstained  from  personally  delivering' 
it;  had  she  done  this,  her  heart-stric- 
ken eye  might  have  detected  the  ser- 
pent, dim-glistening  in  dreadful  beau- 
ty, beneath  the  concealing  foliage. 
Thesudden  shudder  would  have  been 
her  salvation  ;  but  she  did  not,  she 
could  not.  Not  hers  was  the  salutary 
habit  or  the  power  of  self-examina- 
tion ;  not  hers,  alas  I  had  been  the 
blessed  rigilance  of  a  fond  and  virtu- 
ous mother,  exercised  over  her  young 
years!  Already,  in  the  sight  of  God, 
had  commenced  the  guilt  of  Mrs.  St. 
Helen,  who  yet  nevertheless  was  un- 
conscious of  the  presence  or  approach 
of  evil,  even  in  thought.  But  why  ? 
Because  of  her  fatal  remissness  in 
guarding  the  "  approaches  of  her 
heart."  Had  she  then  asked  help 
from  heaven,  she  might  have  perceiv- 
ed the  danger  which  nothing  but  hea- 
ven's help  could  have  detected.  The 
tempter,  says  an  old  divine,  "  is  then 
eyer  nighest  when  we  think  him  far 
thest  off."  Yes,  a  subtle  poison  had 
already  been  imperceptibly  infused,  in 
infinitely  small  quantity,  it  may  be, 
into  the  heart  of  Mrs.  St.  Helen,  a 
poison  of  slow  but  inevitable  opera- 
tion. O,  woman,  this  is  the  point 
of  danger  !  I  repeat  it  that,  harsh 
and  unjust  as  it  may  appear,  from  the 
moment  alluded  to  Mrs.  St.  Helen 
became  an  accomplice  in  effecting  her 
own  ruin.  Not  that  she  had  as  yet 
sensibly  or  consciously  suffered  any 
injury  ;  the  wife  and  the  mother  were 
still  supreme  in  Mrs.  St.  Helen  ;  her 
quick  and  ardent  feelings  knew  of  no 
otlier  objects,  no  other  outlets  than 
these.  O  unhappy  woman  !  why  was 
it  that  wJiietj  Captain  Alverley  con- 
veyed to  you  the  intelligence  of  your 
husband's  triumphs,  you  trembled  at 
hearing  of  it  I  Why  was  that  faint 
flutter  at  your  heart?  Had  not  I  al- 
ready communicated  all  he  came  to 
tell  ?  What  feelings  flitted  through 
your  bosom  when,  leaning  against  the 
window,  you    followed    the    retiring 


THE  DESTROYER. 


^ 


figure  of  Alverley  ?  He  had  been  most 
eloquent  in  praise  of  your  husband ; 
his  winning  tones  entered  your  heart; 
but  how  failed  your  eye  to  encounter 
the  ardetit  look  with  which  he  regard- 
ed you  1  Ought  not  the  conscious 
difference  between  the  feelings  with 
which  you  regarded  him  and  me,  or 
any  other  indifl'erent  person,  to  have 
sounded  the  alarm,  in  your  husband's 
name,  in  every  chamber  of  your  heart? 
Ill-fated  woman  !  dare  you  appeal  to 
Heaven  to  testify  all  the  feelings  with 
which  you  heard  of  quitting  Densleigh 
for  London  ?  Were  you  even  reluc- 
tant to  take  that  step  because  of  your 
dislike  to  encounter  Alverley  ?  would 
you  avow  the  feelings  with  which  you 
found  yourself  becoming  intimate  with 
his  distinguished  family  ?  Alas!  did 
you  not  feel    a    secret  satisfaction   at 

finding  yourself  sitting  at  Lord 's 

dinner  table,  with  Captain  Alverley 
beside  you  ?  Had  not  your  perception 
of  right  and  wrong  been  suddenly 
confused  and  disturbed,  how  could 
you  tolerate  his  altered  demeanor  to- 
wards you  ?  Did  you  not  observe  and 
tremblingly  appreciate  the  tact  with 
which  attentions,  exquisitely  flattering 
and  gratifying  to  you,  were  concenled 
from  all  others?  Did  a  sense  of  se- 
curity from  observation  begin  to  show 
itself  when  you  perceived  the  skill 
with  which  all  his  movements  were 
conducted  ?  What  alteration  of  feel- 
ing did  not  all  this  imply?  Dreadful 
questions  :  how  clearly  does  your  dis- 
inclination to  answer  them  indicate 
the  nature  of  the  change  you  are  un- 
dergoing ! 

Mrs.  St.  Helen  had  not  been  in 
London  half  a  year,  before  Captain 
Alverley  felt  that  he  was  triuniphing, 
that  his  long-continued  and  deeply- 
laid  schemes  were  conducting  him  to 
success.  The  first,  the  very  first  step, 
he  had  felt  to  be  every  thing  :  it  had 
gained  him  an  intere.st,  however  faint, 
in  her  feelings,  and  he  cherished  it 
with  the  most  exquisite  skill,  the  most 


watchful  assiduity.  He  kept  himself 
even  in  the  back  ground.  He  would 
excite  her  feelings  with  his  generous 
and  eloquent  eulogies  of  Colonel  St. 
Helen's  conduct  abroad  5  in  the  mid- 
dle of  one  of  them  he  suddenly  be- 
came confused,  heaved  a  faint  sigh, 
and  resumed  his  conversation  with 
ill-disguised  eml)arrassment.  He  bu* 
sied  himself,  he  took  infinite  pains,  at 
least  he  led  her  to  think  so,  in  pro- 
curing the  return  home  of  Colonel 
St.  Helen  ;  thus,  in  short,  and  in  a 
thousand  other  ways,  he  at  length 
disarmed  Mrs.  St.  Helen,  by  lulling 
her  suspicion,  or  rather  preventing 
their  being  excited.  Consummately 
skilled  in  the  workings  of  the  female 
heart,  he  guided  his  conduct  accord- 
ing to  the  indications  he  discovered. 
In  handing  her  one  night  to  her  car- 
riage from  the  opera,  he  made  a  point 
of  insulting  a  gentleman  who,  with  a 
lady  on  his  arm,  was  hurrying  on  be- 
fore Captain  Alverley  and  Mrs.  St. 
Helen.  A  hurried  whisper  between 
the  two  gentlemen  satisfied  Mrs.  St. 
Helen  that  there  was  mischief  in  pre- 
paration. "  For  heaven's  sake  !  "  she 
whispered,  in  excessive  trepidation  ; 
but  he  gently  forced  her  into  the  car- 
riage, and  permitted  it  to  drive  off 
without  his  uttering  a  word.  He 
gained  his  end.  The  evening  papers 
of  the  ensuing  day  duly  announced 
an  "affair  of  honor"  betMeen  the 
"  Marquis  of  *  *  *  *  *,"  attended 
by,  &LC.,  and  Captain  A.  B.  C,  at- 
tended, &LC.  "  The  meeting  arose 
out  of  an  alleged  affront  offered  by 
the  noble  Marquis  to  a  young  and 
beautiful  lady,"  «fcc.  fcc,  "  whom  the 
Captain  was  conducting  to  her  car- 
riage," &c.  &c.  Very  strange  to  say, 
neither  party  did  the  other  any  harm. 
Captain  Alverley,  on  the  next  opera 
night,  found  his  way  to  her  box. 

"Captain  Alverley!  how  could 
you?  "  commenced  Mrs.  St.  Helen, 
very  earnestly. 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  St.  Helen  !  "  was 


26 


THE  DESTROYED. 


the  only  reply,  with  a  look  that  none 
could  <rive  but  Captain  Alverley.  He 
knew  the  amount  of  his  gain,  and 
was  in  ecstasies. 

In  the  profTress  of  "  the  affair," 
Captain  /*  Iveriey's  next  step  was  to 
accustom  Mrs.  St.  Helen  to  hear  her- 
self called  a  flirt,  and  to  have  his 
name,  on  such  occasions,  always  ju- 
diciou-ly  coupled  with  hers.  The 
first  time  thnt  ever  she  waltzed  with 
iiim,  which  he  justly  regarded  as  an 
open  triumph,  was  in  consequence  of 
a  very  heated  altercation  she  had  with 
Mrs.  Ogilvie,  who  liad  freely  charged 
her  with  culpable  lightness  of  con- 
duct with  reference  to  Captain  Al- 
verley ;  the  consequence  of  which 
was,  that  Mrs.  St.  Helen  went,  as  she 
had  angrily  threatened,  to  a  ball,  and 
casting  a  look  of  defiance  at  her  sis- 
ter-in-law, she  instantly  accepted  Cap- 
tain Alverley's  invitation,  infinitely  to 
his  astonishment.  He  saw  his  posi- 
tion, and  behaved  with  prudence.  Af- 
ter one  or  two  rounds,  he  led  her, 
with  an  air  of  the  properest  deference 
in  the  world,  to  a  seat,  and  paid  her 
no  marked  attentions  whatever  dur- 
ing the  evening.  He  perceived  that 
her  lynx-eyed  sister  watched  his  eve- 
ry movement ;  and  for  upwards  of  a 
fortnight  he  suspended  all  but  the 
most  ordinary  and  casual  civilities  and 
attentions  to  Mrs.  St.  Helen.  Why 
did  not  the  infatuated  woman  at  once 
break  through  all  the  meshes  with 
which  she  was  now  conscious  of  be- 
ing surrounded  ?  Why  did  no  sudden 
alarm  of  virtue,  no  heaven-inspired 
strength,  enable  her  to  *'  flee  like  a 
bird  from  the  snare  of  the  fowler  ?  " 
Alas,  that  I  should  have  to  write  it  ! 
Shr  did  not  notn  wish  to  do  so.  Not 
that  yet  even  she  contemplated  the 
the  horible  idea  of  positive  guilt 
—  vastly  fir  from  it.  She  was  so  con- 
scious of  her  own  strength  as  to  pre- 
vent all  apprehensions  on  that  score. 
It  is  true  she  wis  occasionally  sensi- 
ble, with    a   heart-flutter    and  cheek 


suffused,  of  an  interest  in  Captain  Al- 
verley, that  was  inconsistent  with  the 
undivided  affection  due  to  her  hus- 
band ;  she  went  not  further  conscious- 
ly, but  how  far  was  this  !  She  con- 
soled herself  with  the  notion  that  it 
was  certainly  rather  coquettish,  and 
that  was  almost  universal.  The  plain 
truth  was,  she  began  to  indulge  to- 
wards Captain  Alverley  feelings  which 
she  no  longer  dared  to  scrutinize. 
Her  vanity,  again,  would  not  suffer 
her  to  part  with  so  gay  and  dazzling 
a  follower  :  "  she  was  surely  able  to 
take  care  of  herself" 

Once  or  twice  I  called  upon  Mrs. 
St.  Helen,  in  pursuance  of  the  prom- 
ise I  made,  but  without  seeing  her,  as 
she  had  just  gone  out.  This  might, 
or  it  might  not  be  true.  If  she  was 
denying  herself  to  me,  it  must  have 
been  on  account  of  what  had  taken 
place  on  the  occasion  alluded  to;  and 
was  it  that  she  was  ashamed  of  her 
frankness,  of  the  extent  of  her  ad- 
missions, or  that  she  regretted  having 
made  them  from  other  considerations? 
I  was  driving  one  afternoon  through 
the  Park,  on  my  way  to  a  patient  near 
Cumberland  Gate,  when  I  happened 
to  overtake  the  open  carriage  of  Mrs. 
St.  Helen,  driving  very  slowly,  she 
being  in  conversation  with  an  eques- 
trian who  walked  his  horse  alongside, 
and  I  soon  detected  in  him  Captain 
Alverley.  I  perceived  with  a  hurried 
look  in  passing,  that  she  was  listening 
intently  to  what  he  was  saying,  look- 
ing down,  and  slightly  coloring.  I 
feit  sick  at  heart  for  her  !  The  next 
time  that  I  saw  her  at  home,  she 
seemed  very  calm,  and  sensil)ly  cold- 
er in  her  marmer  towards  me  than  I 
had  ever  seen  her  before.  She  made 
not,  nor  of  course  did  I,  the  slightest 
allusion  to  our  late  deeply  interesting 
conversation.  In  answer  to  my  in- 
quiries, she  said  that  she  was  in  very 
good  health,  except  that  she  did  not 
now  sleep  so  soundly  as  heretofore, 
and  her  appetite  had  also  declined  — 


THE  DESTROYER. 


a? 


the  usual  consequences,  I  told  her,  of 
a  life  of  London  dissipation,  of  irreg- 
ular hours,  excitement  and  fatigue. 

"  As  I  feel  rather  solitary  in  this 
large  house,"  said  she,  "I  have  invit- 
ed a  Miss  Churchill,  a  distant  rela- 
tion of  the  Colonel's,  to  pay  me  a  vi- 
sit. She's  a  very  good,  sweet  girl, 
and  I  have  no  doubt  we  shall  be  in- 
separable." While  she  said  this,  a 
slight  color  mounted  into  her  cheek, 
which  set  me  speculating  upon  what 
she  had  just  told  me.  Was  then  her 
summons  to  Miss  Churchill  a  signal 
of  distress?  Was  it  that  she  began 
to  feel  her  danger?  that  she  wished  a 
protector,  some  one  who  should  be 
indeed,  as  she  said,  inseparable  from 
her,  ever  by  her  side,  whose  presence 
might  check,  if  not  prevent,  the  in- 
creasing ardor  and  attentions  of  Cap- 
tain Alverley  ?  Faint  effort  of  en- 
dangered virtue  !  But  it  was  an  ef- 
fort, and  I  rejoiced  to  see  it  made. 

"  When  do  you  purpose  leaving 
town  ?  "  I  inquired. 

"  Leaving  town  !  "  she  exclaimed 
quickly,  "  why,  dear  Doctor,  should  I 
leave  town  ?  the  season  not  yet  at  its 
height,  even  ?  Besides,  I  hate  the 
country;  T  never  heartily  liked  it." 

*'  I  thought,  Mrs.  St.  Helen  "  — 

"  Oh,  yes,"  she  interrupted  hastily, 
"  I  know  what  you  mean.  Densleigh 
was  certainly  a  pleasant  place  enough, 
but  we've  lost  it."  She  paused  for  a 
moment,  and  added,  '*  but  I  suppose 
that  about  August  we  must  go  down 
somewhere  or  other  "  — 

"The   sea-air  will   do  wonders  for 
you  and  the  children." 

"Yes,  I  dare  say  it  would,"  she  re- 
plied, with  rather  an  indifferent  air, 
"  but  at  present  they  are  very  well ;  I 
always  have  them  taken  to  the  Park  ; 
and  where  can  there  be  a  finer  air  ?  " 
Here  some  visiters  were  announced, 
the  servant  at  the  same  time  laying 
down  six  or  seven  notes  and  cards  of 
invitation  upon  one  of  the  tables. 

About  a  month  afterwards  I  receiv- 


ed  the  following   note  from  Mrs.  St. 
Helen  : 

"  Dear  Doctor,  —  Will  you  call  in 
here,  in  the  course  of  the  morning,  to 
see  one  of  the  children,  who,  ]  fear, 
is  poorly?  Jones  tells  me  she  thinks 
it  is  the  measles.  I  hope  it  is  not 
anything  worse,  the  scarlet  fever,  for 
instance,  or  small  pox?  But  you  can 
soon  tell.  I  shall  wait  at  home  for 
you  till  two. 

Ever  yours, 

E.  St.  Hf.len. 

P.  S.  I  have  never  had  either  of 
these  horrid  complaints  myself,  and 
feel  rather  nervous. 

Street,  10  o'clock." 

What  a  dismal  contrast  this  note 
afforded,  I  thought,  laying  it  down 
with  a  sigh,  to  the  eager,  alarmed 
summons  she  had  sent  on  a  former 
occasion  from  Densleigh  !  A  little 
after  two  o'clock  1  was  at  —  Street, 
and  was  shown  up  immediately  into 
the  nursery.  Mrs.  St.  Helen's  pony- 
phseton  was  at  the  door,  and  she  was 
sitting,  ready  dressed  for  a  drive,  on 
the  corner  of  the  bed  in  which  lay 
her  younger  child.  Her  handkerchief 
saturated  with  eau  de  cologne,  was 
every  now  and  then  lifted  to  her  face, 
as  though  she  dreaded  infection.  She 
looked  very  beautiful,  her  dress  infi- 
nitely became  her,  and  not  particularly 
agitated. 

"  I  was  beginning  to  get  fidgetty, 
Doctor  :  I  was  afraid  I  should  not  see 
you,"  said  .she,  rising  to  meet  me.  I 
assured  her  that  I  had  been  unexpect- 
edly detained.  "  And  what  do  you 
think  of  the  little  love?  I  was  afraid 
he  was  ailing  a  little  yesterday  —  his 
eyes  looked  very  heavy  yesterday 
evening,  didn't  they,  Jones?  "  turning 
to  the  maid 

*'  Yes,  ma'am,"  she  replied,  eager- 
ly, directing  an  affectionate  and  anx- 
ious look  to  the  child.  "  You  may 
recollect,  ma'am,  I  asked  you  yester- 
day afternoon  if  we  hadn't  better  send 
for  "  — 


dd 


THE  DESTROYER. 


"  Oh,  yes  —  I  dare  say  —  I  think 
ynii  Hid,  Jones,"  interrupted  Mrs.  St. 
Helen  quickly,  and  with  rather  a  dis- 
pleased air.  "  Jones  is  always  terrified 
with  every  chnnge  in  the  child's  face. 
But  do  you  think  there  is  any  thing 
really  the  niattel-.  Doctor?" 

After  a  little  examination  I  told  her 
that  I  thought  the  child  was  sickening 
for  the  measles. 

"  Is  he  indeed,  sweet  little  lamb?" 
she  exclaimed,  looking  really  kindly 
at  the  child.  "  You  don't  think  it's 
scarlet  fever,  now  ?  "  after  a  moment's 
pause,  turning  anxiously  towards  me, 
and  gently  agitating  her  fragrant 
handkerchief. 

"  No,"  I  replied,  "  at  present  I 
think  it  is  decidedly  the  measles." 

"  Measles  are  not  dangerous,  are 
they  ?  " 

"  La,  ma'am  !  "  interrupted  Jones, 
who  was  kneeling  at  the  side  of  the 
bed,  near  the  child,  her  eyes  filling 
with  tears,  "  excuse  me,  ma'am,  but 
my  poor  sister's  child  died  of  them 
only  a  twelvemonth  ago?" 

"Oh,  nonsense,  Jones,  why  do  you 
try  to  alarm  me  in  this  way  ?  There's 
no  such  very  great  danger,  Doctor,  is 
there?"  turning  towards  me  with 
more  interest  in  her  manner  than  she 
had  hitherto  manifested. 

"  I  sincerely  hope  not.  At  present  I 
can  assure  you  there  is  every  appear- 
ance of  its  being  a  mild  attack." 

"Only  feel  how  hot  his  little  hand 
is,  ma'am  ?  "  said  Jones. 

Mrs.  St.  Helen  did  not  remove  her 
gloves,  but  said  to  me,  "  Of  course  he 
is  rather  feverish  just  now?" 

After  giving  a  few  directions  con- 
cerning the  temperature  of  the  room, 
his  food,  and  one  or  two  other  little 
matters,  I  left,  and  descended  to  the 
drawing  room  to  write  a  prescription. 

"  I  shall  return  home  by  four, 
Jones,"  said  Mrs.  St.  Helen,  also  quit- 
ting the  room,  and  following  me,  "  be 
sure  you  pay  him  every  attention  — 
don't  remove  your  eyes  from  him  for 
a  moment !  " 


"  I'm  quite  delighted  to  find  that 
there's  no  danger,  Doctor,"  said  she, 
seating  herself  beside  me,  as  I  began 
to  write. 

"  Indeed,  my  dear  madam,"  deter- 
mined not  to  let  matters  pass  so  very 
easily,  "  we  must  not  be  too  sanguine. 
There  are  two  forms  of  measles,  the 
one  a  mild,  the  other  very  malignant. 
At  present  I  cannot  undertake  to  say 
with  certainty  which  of  the  two  it  is." 

She  continued  silent  for  a  few  mo- 
ments. "  I  think  I  told  you  in  my 
note  that  I  believed  I  had  never  had 
the  measles?  Are  they  really  catch- 
ing from  a  child  to  a  grown-up  per- 
son ?  " 

"Undoubtedly." 

"  Heavens  !  I  —  I'll  have  pastiles 
burnt  all  over  the  house  all  day  !  Dear 
me  !  it  would  be  dreadful  if  I  were  to 
catch  it,  because,"  she  added  hastily, 
"of  dear  little  Arthur  !  " 

"  Well,  we  must  hope  for  the  best," 
said  I,  quietly  folding  up  my  prescrip- 
tion, and  requesting  that  it  might  be 
sent  to  the  druggist's  without  delay  ; 
and  hastily  taking  my  leave,  with  a 
countenance  that,  had  she  been  as 
sensitive  as  in  former  times,  she  might 
perceive  somewhat  clouded  with  dis- 
approbation. Was  the  mother's  heart, 
then,  already  so  dulled  towards  her 
suflTering  offspring?  Could  I  doubt 
the  selfish  nature  of  her  anxieties  ? 
What  infernal  change  had  come  over 
her?  Why  did  she  not  instantly  or- 
der back  her  carriage,  undress,  and 
betake  herself  to  the  only  place  that 
then  became  her  :  the  bedside  of  her 
child  ?  But  it  was  otherwise.  A  few 
minutes  after  I  had  quitted,  she  step- 
ped into  her  carriage,  and  drove  into 
the  Park.  At  my  suggestion,  the  el- 
der child,  Arthur,  was  sent  off  imme- 
diately to  Mrs.  Ogilvie's,  who  resided 
somewhere  in  the  neighborhood  Of 
Chelsea ;  and  I  continued  in  daily 
attendance  upon  little  George  for 
about  a  week,  during  which  time  the 
symptoms  were  of  the  milder  descrip- 
tion, and  I  anticipated  the  speedy  re 


THE  DESTROYER. 


29 


covery  of  the  little  patient,  Mrs.  St. 
Helen,  ulienever  I  was  present,  evi- 
dently—  at  least  I  was  uncharitable 
enough  to  admit  the  idea — acted  ihe 
fond  mother,  ajp2}earing  deeply  inter- 
ested in  the  progress  of  her  child 
through  his  little  perils.  I  had  rea- 
son to  believe,  from  one  or  two  little 
circumstances  that  fell  under  iny  ob- 
servation, that  she  did  not  withdraw 
from    the    world   of  pleasure.     The 


constant  attendants  upon  little  George 
were,  not  his  mother,  but  Miss  Church- 
ill, and  his  nursery  maid  Jones,  both 
of  them  most  anxious  and  aflfectJonate 
nurses,  as,  indeed,  I  heard  Mrs.  St. 
Helen  herself,  in  the  blandest  possi- 
ble way,  acknowledge.  Well,  indeed, 
she  might,  having  thus  devolved  the 
chiefest  of  her  maternal  duties  upon 
the  companion  she  had  invited  to  par- 
take of  her  pleasures  only. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


THE   SICK   CHILD  THE   MOTHER   AT   THE   Ol'ERA. 


I  THINK  it  was  about  ten  days  after 
I  had  been  first  called  in  to  attend 
upon  little  St.  Helen,  that  I  was  sud- 
denly summoned,  about  eight  o'clock 
in  tiie  evening,  to  — Street,  with  the 
intelligeme  that  he  had  become  very 
suddenly  worse, and  that  Miss  Church- 
ill was  much  alarmed.  Thither  I  re- 
paired as  quickly  as  possible,  and 
found  that  appearances  justified  her 
apprehensions.  There  was  every 
symptom  of  the  accession  of  the  ma- 
lignant form  of  measles.  He  had  just 
had  a  fit  of  spasujs,  and  was  now 
breathing  hard  and  quickly,  and 
scorched  up  with  fever.  The  symp- 
toms were  certainly  serious. 

"  You  must  not,  however,  be  too 
much  alarmed,  Mrs.  St.  Helen,"  said 
I,  hastily  turning  round,  forgetting,  at 
the  moment,  that  she,  the  most  inter- 
ested, was  not  present.  The  child 
had  been  going  on  as  well  as  usual, 
radidly  recovering,  in  fact,  till  six 
o'clock  that  evening;  about  which 
time  Mrs.  St.  Helen,  after  making 
particular  inquiries    about   the  child, 

went   ofT  lo   dinner   at    Lady 's, 

where  she  had  ordered  the  carriage  to 
call  for  her  about  nine,  and  convey 
her  to  the  opera.  In  their  fright  Miss 
C!iurchill  and  the  servants  forgot  all 
this,  and  instinctively  sent  off  for  me. 
Afier  giving  such  directions  as  ap- 
peared proper,  I  quitted  the  room, 
beckoning  out  for  a  moment  Miss 
Churchill. 

"  Dear  sweet  little  love!  I'm  afraid 
he's  very  ill,"  she  exclaimed,  much 
agitated  and  bursting  into  tears,  as 
siie  slcppc<l  with  me  for  a  moment  in- 


to another  room.  I  acknowledged  to 
her  that  I  considered  the  child  in  dan- 
gerous circumstances  :  "  Have  you 
sent  after  Mrs.  St.  Helen  ?  she  ought 
to  be  here." 

"Dear!  we  have  been  all  so  flur- 
ried ;  but  we'll  inquire,"  she  replied, 
running  down  stairs  before  me.  "  I 
really  don't  think  she's  been  sent  for, 
but  I  will  immediately.  Let  me  see, 
nine  o'clock.  She'll  be  at  the  opera 
by  this  time." 

"  Then  I  will  drive  thither  imme- 
diately, as  my  carriage  is  here,  and 
bring  her  back  with  me,  It  will  not 
do  to  alarm  her  too  suddenly,  and  in 
such  a  place.  Let  me  see  :  on  which 
side  of  the  house  is  her  box  ?  " 

"  Number  — ,  on  the  left  hand  side 
of  the  stage.  I  think,  at  least,  that 
you  will  find  her  in  that  box,  which  is 

the  Duchess  of 's,  and  she  called 

here  to-day  to  offer  it  to  Mrs.  St.  He- 
len." I  drove  off  immediately,  and 
had  a  twofold  object  in  doing  so  :  to 
acquaint  her  as  soon  as  possible  with 
an  event  of  such  serious  importance 
as  the  dangerous  illness  of  her  child, 
and  to  endeavor,  in  doing  so,  to  star- 
tle her  out  of  the  infatuation  into 
whicli  I  feared  she  had  fallen,  to  re- 
mind her  again  of  the  high  and  holy 
duties  she  was  beginning  to  disregard. 
The  sight  of  the  dying  child  would 
rouse,  I  thought,  the  smothered  feel- 
ings of  the  mother,  and  those  would 
soon  excite  an  agonizing  recollection 
of  the  distant  husband.  On  arriving 
at  the  opera-house,  I  made  my  way, 
in  my  hurry,  to  the  wrong  side.  I 
went  into  one  or  two  empty  boxes  be- 


THE  DESTROYER. 


31 


fore  I  discovered  my  mistake  ;  and 
wlien  at  length  I  perceived  it,  I  deter- 
mined to  stay  for  a  few  moments 
where  I  was,  and  endeavor  to  see 
what  was  goincr  on  in  the  Duchess  of 

's  box.     There  sat,  sure  enough, 

in  the  corner  of  the  box,  her  face  di- 
rected towards  the  stage,  Mrs.  St. 
Helen,  dressed  with  her  usual  ele- 
gance, and  looking  extremely  beauti- 
ful. Her  left  hand  slowly  moved  her 
fan  about,  and  she  was  evidently  oc- 
casionally conversing  with  some  one 
standing  far  back  in  the  box.  I  con- 
templated her  with  real  anguish,  when 
I  thought  of  her  husband, —  if  indeed 
she  were  not  now  a  widow, —  and  of, 
perhaps,  her  dying  child.  My  heart 
almost  failed  me,  and  1  began  to  re- 
gret having  undertaken  the  painful 
duty  which  had  brought  me  where  I 
was.  1  stretched  myself  as  far  for- 
ward as  I  could,  to  discover,  if  possi- 
ble, who  was  in  the  box  with  her,  but 
in  vain.  Whoever  it  was  that  she  was 
talking  to,  her  fan  now  and  then  flut- 
tering hurriedly,  he,  or  she,  kept  as 
far  out  of  sight  as  possible.  Just  as 
I  was  quitting  my  post  of  observation, 
however,  a  sudden  motion  of  a  red 
arm,  displaying  the  feather  cf  an  of- 
ficer's cap,  satisfied  me  that  her  com- 
panion was  the  execrable  Alverley.  I 
now  felt  an  additional  repugnance  to 
go  through  with  what  I  had  underta- 
ken ;  but  I  hurried  round  on  the  op- 
posite side  of  the  house,  and  soon 
stood  knocking  at  the  door  of  the 
Duchess's  box.  I  knocked,  and  it 
was  immediately  opened  by  —  Cap- 
tain Alverley. 

'•  Is  Mrs.  St.  Helen  here?  "  I  whis- 
pered. He  bowed  stiffly,  and  admit- 
ted me.  Mrs.  St.  Helen,  on  seeing 
me,  reddened  violently.  Rising  from 
her  seat  and  approaching  me,  she 
suddenly  grew  pale,  for  she  could  not 
but  perceive  that  my  features  were 
somewhat  discomposed. 

"  Good.  God  !  Doctor,  what  brings 
you  here?"  she  inquired,  with  in- 
creasing trepidation. 


"  Permit  me  to  ask,  sir,"  said  Cap- 
lain  Alverley,  interposing  with  an  air 
of  liaughty  curiosity,  "  whether  any 
thing  has  happened  to  justify  the 
alarm  which  Mrs.  St.  Helen  " 

"  I  don't  wish  you  to  be  frighten- 
ed," said  I,  addressing  her,  without 
noticing  her  companion,  or  what  he 
had  said  :  I  could  not  overcome  my 
repugnance  to  him;  "but  1  think 
you  had  better  return  home  with  me: 
my  carriage  is  waiting  for  )ou," 

"Oh  my  child!  my  child'."  she 
exclaimed  faintly,  sinking  into  her 
seat  again  ;  "  what  has  happened,  for 
God's  sake  1  " 

"  He  is  rather  worse,  suddenly 
worse,  but  I  think  he  was  better  again 
before  I  left."  She  looked  eagerly  at 
me,  while  her  countenance  seemed 
blanched  to  the  hue  of  the  white 
dress  she  wore.  She  began  to  breathe 
shortly  and  hurriedly  ;  and  I  was  glad 
that  the  loud  and  merry  music  which 
was  playing,  would,  in  some  measure, 
drown  the  shriek  I  every  moment  ex- 
pected to  hear  her  utter.  I  succeed- 
ed, however,  with  Captain  Alverley's 
assistance,  in    conveying    her  to   my 

carriage,  which  I  ordered  on  to 

Street  as  fast  as  possible,  for  Mrs.  St. 
Helen's  excitement  threatened  to  be- 
come violent.  She  sobbed  hysteri- 
cally. "  What  a  cruel,  cruel,  wretch 
I  have  been,"  she  murmured  in  bro- 
ken accents,  "  to  be  at  the  —  the  op- 
era, when  my  darling  is  dying  !  " 

"  Come,  come,  Mrs.  St.  Helen,  it 
is  useless  to  afflict  yourself  with  vain 
reproaches.  You  thought,  as  we  all 
thought,  that  he  was  recovering  fast, 
when  you  set  off." 

"  Oh,  but  I  should  never,  never, 
have  left  his  bedside  !  Oh,  if  I  should 
lose  him  !     I  shall    never   be   able  to 

look  my  " Thus  she    proceeded, 

till,  overcome  with  exhausti(>n,  she 
leaned  back,  sobbing  heavily.  As  we 
entered  the  street  in  which  !-he  lived, 
she  whispered,  with  evidently  a  great 
effort  to  overcome  her  agitation,  — 
"Dearest    Doctor,   I    see  —  I    know 


32 


THE  DESTROYER. 


what  you  must  think;  l)iit  I  assure,  I 
—  I  —  Capt;iiii  Alverley  hail  but  that 
niomeul  come  into  the  box,  quite  uii- 
expocteHly  to  me,  aiifi  I  was  extreme- 
ly vexed  and  annoyed." 

I  was  glad  that  the  carriage  stop- 
ping spared  me  the  pain  of  replying 
to  her.  Miss  Churchill  came  running 
to  the  carriage,  as  soon  as  the  hall 
door  had  been  opened,  and  almost 
received  Mrs.  St.  Helen  into  her  arms, 
for  she  could  hardly  stand,  her  agita- 
tion became  so  suddenly  increased. 

"Emma,  Emma!  I  do  assure  he  is 
better  :  much,  a  great  deal  better  !  " 
said  Miss  Churchill,  hurrying  her 
along  the  hall. 

"  O  Jane,  1  shall  die !  I  am  very 
ill  !  I  cannot  bear  it!  Can  you  for- 
give me?  " 

"  Hush,  hush  !  what  nonsense  you 
are  talking:  you  rave!"  exclaimed 
Miss  Churchill,  as  we  forced  Mrs.  St. 
Helen  into  the  dining  room,  where  it 
was  sometime  before  she  was  restored 

to  anything  like  calmness.    Mr. , 

the  well  known  apothecary,  at  length 
coming  into  the  room,  to  take  his  de- 
parture, strenuously  assured  us  that 
the  children  were  very  greatly  reliev- 
ed, and  that  he  did  not  now  appre- 
hend danger.  This  I  was  happy  in 
being  able  to  corroborate,  after  hav- 
ing stepped  up  stairs  to  satisfy  my 
own  anxiety  ;  and  I  left  her  for  the 
night  hoping,  but  faintly,  that  a  great 
effort  had  been  made  to  snap  asunder 
the  infernal  bands  in  which  Satan, 
disguised  in  the  shape  of  Alver- 
ley, had  bound  her.  It  seemed,  how- 
ever, as  though  my  hopes  were  justi- 
fied ;  for  morning,  noon  and  night  be- 
held Mrs.  St.  Helen  at  her  child's 
bedside,  his  zealous,  watchful  and 
loving  attendant,  for  upwards  of  a 
week.  She  gave  him  all  his  medi- 
cine;  with  her  own  hands  rendered 
him  all  the  little  services  his  situation 
required  ;  ordered  a  peremptory  '  not 
at  home'  to  be  answered  to  all  com- 
ers except  Mrs.  Ogilvie;   and   doul)t- 


less  banished  from  her  busied  bosom 
all  thoughts  of  Captain  Alverlev. 

The  morning  after  I  had  brought 
her  home,  as  I  have  described,  from 
the  opera,  on  stepping  into  my  car- 
riage, I  saw  a  paper  lying  between 
the  cushions  of  the  seat.  Sup|>osing 
it  to  be  some  memorandum  or  other 
of  my  own,  I  took  it  up,  and  with  un- 
utterable feelings,  read  the  following, 
hastily  written,  in  pencil  : 

"  Will  you,  angel?  condemn  me  to 
a  distant  admiration  of  your  solitary 
beauty  ?     I  am  here    fretting   in  old 

's  box  ;  for  mercy's  sake  rescue 

me.     Only  look  down  and  nod,  when 

you  have  read  this,  at  old 's  box. 

I  shall  understand,  and  rely  upon  it, 
will  not  abuse  your  kindness." 

I  tore  it  with  fury  into  a  hundred 
fragments,  and  then,  recollecting  my- 
self, regretted  that  I  had  not  enclosed 
it  to  Mrs.  St.  Helen  in  an  envelope, 
with  "  my  compliments,"  so  that  she 
might  be  sensible  of  the  extent  to 
which  I  was  aware  of  her  guilty  se- 
crets. Could  there  be  now  any  doubt 
in  my  niiud  of  the  nature  of  the  at- 
tentions this  villain  was  paying  Mrs. 
St.  Helen,  and  which  she  permitted  ? 
On  reading  this  infernal  missive,  she 
must  have  "  looked  and  nodded,^'  and 
so  summoned  the  fiend  to  her  side. 
And  now  I  recollected  the  falsehood 
she  had  had  presence  of  mind  enough 
in  t4ie  midst  of  all  her  agitation  to 
invent,  in  order  to  explain  away  his 
being  with  her  —  that  it  was  '*  un- 
expected "  to  her,  and  "  vexed  and 
annoyed  "  her.  I  long  debated  with 
myself  whether  I  should  communicate 
to  her  the  nature  of  the  discovery  I 
had  made  ;  but  at  length,  for  many 
reasons,  thought  it  better  to  take  no 
notice  of  it.  I  looked  at  her  with 
totally  different  feelings  and  ideas  to 
those  with  which  I  had  ever  before 
regarded  her.  I  felt  as  if  her  pres- 
ence polluted  the  chamber  of  suffer- 
ing innocence.  Her  uncommon  beau- 
ty had  thenceforth  no   attractions  for 


THE  DESTROYER. 


aa 


my  eye :  I  felt  no  gratificiition  in  her 
gentle  and  winning  manners.     I  did 
not  regret  the  arrival  of  the  day  fixed 
for  both  the    children,   accompanied 
by  herself,  to  go  to  the  sea  side  ;  it 
would  relieve  me  of  the  presence  of 
one  whose  perfidious  conduct    daily 
excited  my  indignation  and    disgust. 
She  returned  from  the  sea  side,  I  un- 
derstood, as  soon  as  she  had  seen  her 
children  settled  ;  I  say  understood,  for 
I  had  no  direct  knowledge  of  the  fact. 
She  gave  me  no  intimation  of  the  safe 
arrival  of  her  children  at  the  sea  side, 
or   of  her  own  return,  or  how  they 
were  going  on.     On  our  casual  meet- 
ing in  Oxford   Street,   she  certainly 
nodded  as  our  carriages  met,  but  it 
was  not  the  cordial  recognition  which 
I  had    been    accustomed    to   receive 
from  her.  I  saw  that  she  did  not  look 
in  good  health,  her  face  seemed  cloud- 
ed with    anxiety.     As,   however,  she 
had  vouchsafed  me   no   intimation  of 
her  return  to  town  beyond  the  sudden 
and  casual  recognition  just  mention- 
ed, of  course  I  abstained  from  calling 
on  her.     I  wondered  whether  it  ever 
occurred  to  her  as  being  possible  that 
the  note  received  from  Alverley  had 
been  dropped  in  my  carriage,  and  so 
come  under  my  notice.      She  might 
have  recollected  that  she  did  not  de- 
stroy  it,  but    rather,  perhaps,  deter- 
mined not   to  destroy  it ;  she  might 
have  asked  Captain  Alverley  if  he  had 
seen  it,  they  might  have  searched  the 
box,  and  then  Mrs.  St.  Helen's  guilty 
soul  may  have  alarmed  and   worried 
her  with  the    possibility  that   such  a 
document  might   have   found  its  way 
into  my  hands  ;  and  if  it  had,  could 
I  then   do    nothing    to  extricate  her 
from    the   perilous   circumstances  in 
which  I  conceived  her  to  be  placed  ? 
What  right  had  I  to  interfere,  howe- 
ver keen  my  suspicions,  however  sin- 
cere   my  attachment   to    her,  as    she 
was,  and  to  her  husband?    But  might 
I  not  endeavor  to  communicate   with 
General  or  Mrs.  Ogilvie  on   the  sub- 
3 


ject  1     Yet  I  knew  nothing  whatever 
of  him,  and  her  I    had   seen   but  sel- 
dom, and  only  at  Mrs.   St.   Helen's  ; 
and  besides,  from  the  evident  recrim- 
ination that  I  had  interrupted  between 
the  sisters  in  law   on   a   former  occa- 
sion, it  was  plain    that    Mrs.  Ogilvie 
must  be  aware  of  the  light  conduct  of 
Mrs.  St.  Helen;  probably  she   knew 
and  feared  more  than  I ;   and  so  my 
communication  would  not  appear  in- 
credible.    Still  it  might  be  taken  ill, 
and  I  resolved  not  to  attempt  so  dan- 
gerous an  experiment.     As  for  anon- 
ymous letters,  that  odious  system  was 
my  abhorrence.     Suppose  I   were  to 
write    directly    to    Mrs.    St.    Helen, 
braving  all  chances,  and  faithfully  ex- 
postulating with    her   on  the  dreadful 
course  upon  which  she   was    too  evi- 
dently  bent]  but   with    what  benefit 
had  my  former  attempts  been  attend- 
ed ?     Suppose  she  should   return  my 
letter  with  indignation,  or  even,  in  a 
fever  of  fury,  lay  it  before  Captain  Al- 
verley? So,  seeing  no  possible  way  of 
interfering  successfully   between  the 
victim  and  the  destroyer,  I  withdrew 
from  the  painful  spectacle,  and  endea- 
vored to  discharge  it   from  my  mind. 
Still,  however,  in  my  intercourse  with 
society,  I  was  from  time  to  time  pain- 
ed by  hearing  rumors  of  the  most  dis- 
tressing   description    concerning  the 
degree  of  intimacy  subsisting  between 
Captain  Alverley  and  Mrs.  St.  Helen. 
Scandal  was   indeed   busy  with  their 
names,  which   at   length   found   their 
way  into  the  papers  of  the  day.  Could, 
for  instance,  the  following  be  mistak- 
en?    "  The  eccentric  conduct  of  the 
lovely  wife  of  a  very  gallant  officer  is 
beginning  to  attract   much   notice  in 
the  beau  moadc.  It  is  rumored  to  have 
been  such  as  to  call  forth  an  intima- 
tion from  a  very   high  guartrr,"  &c. 
while  in  one  or   two  less  scrupulous 
newspapers,  her  name,  connected  with 
that  of  Captain  Alverley,  was  men- 
tioned in  the  coarsest   and   most  dis- 
gusting terms. 


r;. 


CHAPTER    VII. 


THE      E  L  O  r  E  M  E  N  T  , 


Alas,  poor  Colonel  St.  Helen  !  — 
if,  indeed,  the  chances  of  war  had  yet 
spared  jrou  :  was  this  the  fond  and 
lovely  wife  you  left  in  such  an  agony 
of  grief,  the  mother  of  your  cliildren, 
she  to  whom  you  had  confided  so 
much,  from  whom  you  were  expect- 
ing so  enthusiastic  a  welcome  after  all 
your  brave  and  dangerous  and  glori- 
ous toils  ?  Better  would  it  be  for  you 
to  fall  gloriously  before  yon  grissly 
array  of  muskets,  amidst  the  bellow- 
ing of  your  country's  cannon,  than 
survive  to  meet  the  dismal  scenes 
which  seem  preparing  for  you  ! 


Alas,  that  I  should  have  to  record 
it!  Mrs.  St.  Helen  at  length  grew  so 
reckless,  the  consequences  of  her  in- 
famous conduct  became  so  evident, 
that  even  some  of  the  less  fastidious 
of  the  circles  in  which  she  moved, 
found  it  necessary  to  exclude  her. 
Public  propriety  could  not  be  so  out- 
raged with  impunity. 


It  was  on  a  lovely  Sunday  morning 
May,  18-,  on  which,  returning  from 
an  early  visit  to  a  patient  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  Kensington,  I  ordered  the 
coachman  to  walk  his  horses  that  I 
might  enjoy  the  balmy  freshne.ss  of 
every  thing  around,  and  point  out  to 
ujy  little  son,  who  had  accompanied 
me,  for  the  drive's  sake,  the  beauty  of 
Hyde  Park,  at  that  point  leading  off 
to  Kensington  Gardens.  I  could  al- 
most have  imagined  n)yself  fifty  miles 
off  in  the  country.  The  sun  shone 
serenely  out  of  the  blue  expan.se  above 
upon  the  bright  green  shrubs  and  trees 


yet  cool  and  fresh  with  the  morning 
i\ew.  With  the  exception  of  one  gen- 
tleman who  had  cantered  past  us  a 
few  minutes  before,  and  a  tidy  old 
country-looking  dame  sitting  on  one 
of  the  benches  to  rest  herself  from  a 
long  walk  to  town,  we  encountered 
no  one.  My  little  chatterer  was  mak- 
ing some  sagacious  observations  upon 
the  height  and  number  of  the  trees  in 
Kensington  Gardens,  when  a  rumb- 
ling, heavy  noise  indicated  the  ap- 
proach of  a  vehicle  at  a  rapid  rale. 
It  proved  to  be  a  chariot  and  four, 
coming  towards  us  in  the  direction  of 
Cumberland  Gate,  tearing  along  as 
fast  as  the  postilions  could  urge  their 
horses.  The  side-blinds  were  drawn 
down,  but  those  in  front  were  up  and 
enabled  me  lo  see  —  Mrs.  St.  Helen 
and  Captain  Alverley  !  She  was  vi- 
olently agitated,  her  white  dress  seem- 
ed to  have  been  put  on  in  haste  and 
disorder,  her  hair  was  dishevelled, 
she  was  wringing  her  hands,  and 
weeping  passionately.  He  was  so  ab- 
."orbed  with  his  attempts  to  pacify  her 
as  not  to  observe  me.  I  drew  my 
breath  with  difficulty  for  some  mo- 
ments, the  shock  of  such  a  dreadful- 
apparition  had  been  so  sudden.  It 
seemed  as  though  I  had  met  Satan 
hurrying  away  with  a  fallen  Angel! 

So,  tlien,  this  was  her  ei.oi-e.ment 
that  I  had  been  fated  to  see  !  Yes, 
the  final  step  had  been  taken  which 
separated  that  miserable  and  guilty 
being  for  ever  from  all  that  was  hon- 
orable, virtuous,  precious  in  life  ; 
which  plunged  her  into  infamy  irre- 
trievable ;     and    her     husband!     her 


I'HE  DESTROYER. 


35 


cVildren  !  Fiend,  thou  hadst  tri- 
umphed \ 

My  exhilaration  of  spirits,  occa- 
sioned by  the  beauty  and  calmness  of 
the  morning,  instantly  disappeared. 
It  seemed  as  though  a  cloud  darkened 
the  heavens,  and  filled  my  soul  with 
oppressive  gloom.  "  Papa  !  "  exclaim- 
ed my  little  son,  rousing  me  from  the 
Tevery  into  which  I  had  fallen,  **  what 
are  you  thinking  about  ?  Are  you 
■sorry  for  that  lady  and  gentleman  ?  I 
wofider  who  they  are  ?  Why  was  slie 
trying?  Is  she  ill,  do  you  think  ?  " 
His  questions  at  length  attracted  my 
attention ;  but  I  could  not  answer 
him,  for  he  reminded  me  of  little  Ar- 
thur St.  Helen,  who  was  just  about 
his  age.  Poor  children !  Innocent 
offspring  of  an  innocent  mother,  what 
is  to  become  of  you  ?  What  direful 
associations  will  ever  hereafter  hang 
around  the  name  you  bear  ! 

About  eleven  o'clock  I  drove  thro' 

Street,  and  on  approaching  Mrs. 

St.  Helen's  house,  perceived  indica- 
tions, even  in  the  street,  of  something 
unusual  having  happened.  On  draw- 
ing up  at  the  door,  for  i  determined 
to  call  if  only  to  mention  what  I  had 
seen,  I  saw  that  there  were  several 
persons  in  the  drawing  room  evident- 
iy  agitated.  The  servant  who  opened 
the  door  seemed  quite  bewildered.  I 
was  requested  to  walk  up  stairs  as 
soon  as  he  had  taken  up  my  name, 
and  soon  found  myself  in  the  drawing 
room,  in  the  presence  of  Miss  Church- 
ill, General  and  Mrs.  Ogilvie,  the 
Ear}  and  Countess  of  Hetberingbam, 
and  several  other  relatives  and  con- 
nections of  Colonel  and  Mrs.  St.  He- 
len. They  were  all  laboring  under 
great  excitement.  Mrs.  OgiJvie  was 
perfectly  frantic,  walking  (o  and  fro, 
and  wringing  her  bands,  the  picture 
of  despair.  I  addressed  myself  first 
to  Miss  Churchill,  who  stood  nearest 
me.  She  took  n)y  hand,  but  sudden- 
ly quitted  it,  overcome  with  her  feel- 
ings, and  turned  away. 


"  My  dear  Countess,^'  said  I,  ap- 
proaching the  Countess  of  Hethering" 
ham,  who  was  sitting  on  the  sofa, 
conversing  with  a  lady,  her  handker- 
chief now  and  then  raised  towards 
her  eyes,  but  her  manner  still  some- 
what stately  and  composed,  "I  fear  I 
can  guess  what  has  happened,  taking 
a  chair  opposite  to  her. 

**  Eloped,  Doctor  1  she  has  posi- 
tively !  We  are  all  thunderstruck," 
she  answered,  in  a  low  tone.  *'  We 
were  preparing  to  go  to  church,  when 
the  painful  news  reached  us.  We 
came  off  hither,  and  have  been  here 
ever  since.  I  have  not  told  any  of 
my  daughters." 

"  Her  companion,  I  suppose"  — 

"  Of  course  that  wretch  Captain 
Alverley.  It  is  a  pity  he  is  to  succeed 
to  the  title  and  estates.  The  Ear], 
by  the  way,  talks  of  calling  him  out 
and  so  forth.  I'll  take  care  he  does 
no  such  thing,  however.  Don't  you 
think  General  Ogilvie  should  do  so, 
if  any  one  ?"' 

"How  and  when  did  she  go?"  I 
inquired,  affecting  not  to  hear  her  last 
observations.  "  I  called  to  say  that  I 
suspected  what  has  happened  since  I 
met  them  this  morninor  early, in  the 
Park." 

"  Herbert !  "  exclaimed  tbe  Count- 
ess, in  a  less  drawling  tone  than  usu- 
al, addressing  the  Earl  of  Hetbering- 
bam, who  was  conversing  witb  Gene- 
ral Ogilvie  and  another  gentleman  in 
a  low  earnest  tone,  at  the  further  end 

of  the  room^  "  Doctor says  that 

he  met  tbe  fugitives  this  morning  ear- 
ly in  the  Park." 

"Indeed!"  exclaimed  tbe  Earl, 
earnestly,  as  they  all  three  approach- 
ed us.  I  told  them  what  I  had  seen, 
and  they  listened  in  silence. 

"  Do  you  .think  we  could  mention 
the  affiir  at  the  Horse  Guards?  "  in- 
quired the  Earl,  turning  to  General 
Ogilvie.  "  I  have  a  great  mind  to 
call  on  tbe  Commander  in  Chief  to- 
morrow, and  represent  the  infamoas 


36 


THE  DESTROYER. 


conduct  of  his  aide-de-camp  towards 
a  distinguished  l)rother  officer !  "  The 
General  and  his  companion  shook 
their  heads,  and  the  three  presently 
walked  away  again  to  a  distant  part 
of  tlic  drawing  room,  where  they  ap- 
peared to  resume  the  conversation 
which  the  Countess's  summons  had 
interrupted. 

"  To  tell  you  the  truth.  Doctor," 
she  continued,  "  I  am  not  much  sur- 
prised at  her  turning  out  in  this 
way  " 

"Heavens!  Countess,  you  astonish 
me!" 

"  Her  father,  you  know,"  contin- 
ued the  frigid  Countess,  was  a  very 
B0-3()  kind  of  character,  and  gave  her 
no  sort  of  proper  education.  I  have 
had  my  daughters  educated  in  the 
strictest  possible  way,  quite  under  my 
own  eye!  Mrs.  St.  Helen  I  tried  to 
train,  when  she  was  with  us  for  a 
short  time,  but  it  was  useless.  I  soon 
saw  it  was  in  vain  ;  and  she  did  my 
daughters  no  good  while  she  was  with 
thenj,  I  assure  you." 

"  Why,  surely.  Countess,  you  never 
saw  anything  improper  in  her  conduct 
while  she  was  under  your  care  ?  " 

"Oh,  why,  yes  —  I  mean,  not  per- 
haps exactly  ;  but  to  be  sure  the  girl's 
head  was  quite  turned  with  the  non- 
sense the  men  talked  to  her,  as  they 
do  to  every  new  girl  ;  they  thought 
her  pretty."  She  paused,  but  I  only 
bowed. 

"  'Tis  a  sad  thing  for  us.  Doctor,  is 
it  not?  "  resumed  the  Countess,  "  the 
papers  will  take  care  to  get  hold  of  it, 
because  of  her  relationship  to  us  —  it 
IS  really  most  unpleasant."  At  this 
moment  a  servant  entered  and  whis- 
pered to  Miss  Churchill,  and  she,  fol- 
lowed liy  Mrs.  Ogilvie,  presently  quit- 
ted the  room.  "  I  dare  say  that  is 
some  message  about  the  children," 
said  the  Countess,  in  the  same  pas- 
sionless tone  and  manner  she  had  hi- 
ilierlo  prt'scrved  •.  how  I  pity  them,  by 
the  way,     Poor  things,  it  will   be  al- 


ways flung  in  their  teeth;  they'll  feel 
the  greatest  difficulty  in  settling  in 
life;  I  quite  feel  for  them!  "  sighing 
gently.  "I  suppose,  by  the  way,  the 
Colonel  will  find  no  difficulty,  if  he 
should  live  to  return  to  England,  in 
obtaining  a  divorce  1  But  then  the 
exposure  is  so  great !  "  How  long  the 
Countess  would  have  gone  on  in  thi» 
strain,  I  know  not ;  I  was  heartily 
tired  of  it  :  it  seemed,  so  to  speak, 
utterly  out  of  tune  ;  so  I  rose  and 
bowed,  saying  I  wished  to  see  Mrs. 
Ogilvie  before  I  left,  as  she  and  Miss 
Churchill  seemed  extremely  excited 
and  hysterical. 

"  You  will  not  mention  this  affair 
more  than  you  can  help,  Doctor !  " 
said  the  Countess,  with  great  dignity. 

"Rely  on  my  prudence,"  I  replied 
carelessly,  and  quitted  the  room,  per- 
fectly wearied  out  and  disgusted  with 
the  tone  and  manner  in  which  such  a 
dreadful  matter  was  discussed  by  one 
who  ought  to  have  felt  a  inost  painful 
interest  in  it.  I  directed  a  servant  to 
show  me  to  the  room  whither  Mrs. 
Ogilvie  and  Miss  Churchill  had  gone  ; 
and  was,  within  a  few  moments,  ush- 
ered into  the  boudoir.  How  my  heart 
aches  as  I  hastily  cast  my  eye  over 
the  numerous  little  elegancies  scat- 
tered tastefully  about  the  room  ;  and 
especifilly  when  it  fell  upon  a  l)e!iuti- 
ful  full  length  crayon  sketch  of  Mrs. 
St.  Helen,  which  hung  upon  the  wall. 

"Oh,  wretch!"  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Ogilvie,  observing  my  eye  fixed  upon 
it  ;  and  walking  hastily  up  to  it,  she 
stood  for  a  few  moments  with  her 
arms  stretched  out  towards  it ;  and 
then  burying  her  face  in  her  hands, 
wept  as  if  her  heart  would  break.  I 
rose  and  turned  the  picture  with  it» 
face  to  the  wall. 

"  My  brother  !  my  brave  and  noble 
hearted  brother  !  "  sobbed  Mr.s.  Ogil- 
vie, and  sunk,  overpowered  with  her 
feelings,  into  a  seat. 

"Where  is  my  mamma?"  kept 
continually  inquiring  little  Arthur  St. 


THE  DESTROYER. 


37 


Helen,  whom  Miss  Churchill  was 
clasping  affectionritely  in  her  arms, 
while  her  tears  fell  like  rain  upon  his 
little  head.  He  was  the  image  of  his 
beautiful  —  fallen,  mother. 

"She's  gone,  gone,  my  level  You 
will  never  see  her  again  1  "  she  mur- 
mured. 

"  But  I'll  go  and  fetch  her,  if  you 
will  only  tell  me  where  she  is."  Miss 
Churchill  wept,  but  made  no  reply. 

"  Why  do  you  turn  my  mamma's 
picture  round  that  way  ?  "  he  inquired 
looking  at  me  with  a  haughty  air,  one 
ihat  most  strongly  reminded  me  of  his 
guilty  mother.  "  I  love  my  mamma 
very  dearly,  and  you  shall  not  do  so." 
Miss  Churchill  kissed  him  with  pas- 
sionate forvor,  but  made  no  reply. 
Mrs.  Ocrjlvie  rose  and  beckoned  me 
to  follow  her,  quitted  the  boudoir, 
and  stepped  into  the  room  adjoining. 
■"Oh,  Doctor!  of  ali  the  dreadful 
scenes  you  have  ever  seen,  can  any 
thing  equal  this?  I  would  rather  — 
indeed  I  would  —  have  followed  my 
beloved  brother  and  his  wife  to  the 
grave  than  lived  to  see  this  day!  My 
dear,  brave,  fond,  generous,  betrayed 
brother:  read  it,  if  you  cani  It  has 
quite  broken  my  heart!  "  and  hastily 
snatching  a  letter  from  her  bosom^ 
she  thrust  it  into  my  hands,  telling  me 
that  Mrs.  St  St.  Helen  had  received 
jt  only  late  last  night,  and  in  her  hur- 
ried flight,  which  it  had  perhaps  oc- 
casioned, had  left  it  upon  the  floor  of 
ber  dressing  room.  The  letter  was 
from  Colonel  to  Mrs.  St.  Helen^ 
and  was  quite  damp  —  it  might  be 
with  the  tears  of  agony  that  hnd  fall- 
en from  those  who  had  read  it.  It  was 
as  follows :  — 

Malta,  April  10th,  18-. 
^'  My  sweet  Emma  !  Still  two  thou- 
sand envious  miles  are  between  us  1 
Oh  that  I  had  an  angel's  wing  to  fly 
to  you  in  a  moment!  But,  alas,  that 
is  what  I  have  been  wishing  a  thous- 
and and  a  thousand  times  since  I  left 


you,  four  long  years  ago.  My  lovely 
Emma !  idol  of  my  heart,  and  shall 
we  indeed  be  ere  long  re-united  t 
Shall  I  again  clasp  my  dear  beautiful 
Emma  in  my  arms,  never,  never, 
acrain  to  be  separated  t  Dearest  !  a 
thousand  times  the  wealth  of  the  In- 
dies shall  not  tempt  me  again  to  quit 
you  !  I  come  home  a  little  before  my 
recriment,  being  a  little  —  mind,  love, 
only  a  little,  of  an  invalid.  Don't  be 
alarmed,  my  sweet  Emma,  for  I  as- 
sure you,  upon  my  honor,  that  I  am 
quite  recovered.     The  fact  is,  that  I 

received,  in  the   battle  of  A ,  an 

ugly  wound  in  my  left  arm  from  a 
musket  ball,  which  confined  me  to  a 
tent,  and  to  my  bed,  for  nearly  six 
weeks;  and  Lord ,  in  the  kind- 
est way,  wrote  to  me  to  insist  upon 
ray  return  to  England  for  a  year,  in 
order  to  recruit.  I  came  overland, 
and  am  rather  fatigued  with  my  jour- 
ney. An  important  matter  keeps  me 
at  Malta  for  a  week  ;  but  in  the  very 
next  ship  I  start  for  merry  old  Eng- 
land. And  how  have  you  been,  my 
dearest  Emma?  And  how  are  Arthur 
and  George  ?  Why  do  you  say  so 
little  about  them,  and  about  yourself? 
But  I  suppose  you  have  got  the  com- 
mon notion,  that  your  letters  are  open- 
ed by  others  than  those  they  are  di- 
rected to!  How  I  have  guessed  what 
might  be  the  features  and  e'xpression 
of  my  little  boys!  I  have  never  seen 
George:  is  he  really  like  me?  By 
the  way,  I  have  brought  you  some 
beautiful  diamonds !  I  have  almost 
beggared  myself  (till  I  arrive  in  Eng- 
land) to  obtain  them  for  my  Emma. 
How  I  shall  delight  to  see  them  upon 
you  1 

"  Unless  something  extraordinary 
should  happen,  you  will  see  me  in 
about  a  week  after  you  get  this  letter 
—  it  may  be  only  a  day  or  two  after  ; 
and,  my  own  Emma,  I  most  particu- 
larly wish  that  y^^u  will  be  alone  dur^ 
ing  the  week  immediately  fiHowing 
your  receipt  of  this  letter,  for  I  must 


«^ 


THE  DESTROYER. 


have  you  all  to  myself,  when  we  meet 
—  as  the  Scripture  has  it,  '  with  our 
joy  a  stranger  intermeddlelh  not.' 
God  bless  you,  my  dearest,  dearest 
Emma!  and  kiss  the  dear  boys  heart- 
ily for  me  !  Your  fond,  doating  hus- 
band, 

"  Arthur  St.  Helen." 

I  returned  this  letter  to  Mrs.  Ogil- 
vie  in  silence,  who,  with  a  heavy  sigh, 
replaced  it  in  her  bosom. 

"  She  must  have  read  it,"  said  I, 
after  a  pause. 

"  Yes,"  she  replied,  with  a  shudder 
cf  distrust  and  horror,  "  and  if  she  felt 
Iierself  guilty,  I  wonder  she  survived 
it!     *     *     * 

"  What  arrangements  have  you 
r-iade  with  respect  to  the  children  ?  " 
I  inquired. 

She  replied  that  she  had  already 
given  directions  for  their  removal  to 
her  house,  where  she  should  keep 
them  till  iier  brother's  return;  tremb- 
ling as  she  uttered  the  last  word  or 
two.     *     * 

"I  suppose  you  have  heard  some 
of  the  many  painful  rumors  as  to  the 
conduct  of  Mrs.  St.  Helen  lately  1  " 
eaid  I,  in  a  low  tone. 

"  Yes,  oh,  yes  —  infamous  woman  ! 
But  the  general  and  I  have  been  tra- 
welling  on  the  continent  during  the 
last  six  months,  or  he  would  have  ta- 
ken these  poor  children  away  from 
her  contaminating  presence,  even  by 
force,  if  necessary.  I  did  frequently 
expostulate  with  her  in  the  most  urg- 
ent manner,  but  latterly  she  grew  ve- 
ry haughty,  and  replied  to  me  with 
great  rudeness  even." 

"  Alas,  I  fear  her  heart  has  been 
long  corrupted."  She  shook  her  head 
and  sobbed.  I  mentioned  the  slip  of 
|)aper  I  had  picked  in  my  carriage. 

"  Oh,  many  many  worse  things  than 
th:a  have  come  to  our  knonledge 
fiince  we  returtjed  from  the  continent. 
Iler  disgraceful  conduct  drove  Miss 
Churchill    from  St^ft^t,.  ^SX^X,aI 


months  ago.  Oh,  the  scenes  even  she 
has  been  compelled  to  witness  !  I9 
there  no  punishment  for  this  vile,  this 
abominable  Alverley  ?  " 

"  Can  it  be  true,  Mrs.  Ogilvie,  that 
the  villain  has  had  the  execrable 
meanness  to  borrow  considerable 
sums  «>f  money  from  Mrs.  St.  Helen?  " 

"  That  also  I  have  heard  ;  that  she 
has  wasted  the  property  of  my  j)oor 
betrayed  brother  anil  their  children, 
in  order  to  supply  his  necessities  at 
the  gaming  table  ;  but  I  cannot  go 
on,  I  shall  go  distracted  !  " 

I  ascertained  that  very  late  in  the 
preceding  night,  or  rather  at  an  early 
hour  of  the  morning,  Mrs.  St.  Helen 
had  returned  from  Vauxhall,  accom- 
panied, as  usual,  by  Captain  Alver- 
ley ;  and  immediately  upon  her  enter- 
ing the  house,  the  above  letter  from 
the  Colonel  was  placed  in  her  hands. 
Her  guilty  soul  was  thunderstruck  at 
the  sight  of  her  husband's  handwrit- 
ing. Captain  Alverley,  who  entered 
with  her,  opened  and  read  the  letter, 
and  would  have  taken  it  away  with 
him  to  destroy,  had  she  not  insisted 
so  vehemently  on  reading  it,  that  he 
was  forced  to  comply.  She  swooned 
before  she  had  read  half  of  the  letter. 
All  I  could  learn  of  what  happened 
subsequently  was,  that  Captain  Al- 
verly  left  about  three  o'clock,  and  re- 
turned in  little  more  than  an  hour's 
time;  that  a  travelling  carriage  and 
four  drew  up  at  the  door  about  five 
o'clock  ;  but  such  was  her  agitation 
and  illness,  that  it  was  not  till  nearly 
half  pust  seven  o'clock  that  Captain 
Alverley  succeeded,  after  a  vain  at- 
tempt to  induce  her  maid  to  accom- 
pany tliem,  in  carrying  Mrs.  St.  He- 
len into  the  carriage  almost  in  a  state 
of  inser)sibility.  He  gave  the  sullen, 
incredulous  servants  to  understand 
that  their  n)istre.ss  had  been  summon- 
ed off  to  nieet  Colonel  St.  Helen  ! 
She  had  not  ventured  into  the  room 
where  her  children  were  asleep,  in 
blessed  unconsciougae^,  pf  the  fear- 


THE  DESTROYER. 


^ 


ful  scenes   that  were  then  going  for- 
ward. 

In  most  of  the  Monday  morning's 
newspapers  appeared  the  ordinary 
kind  of  paragraph  announcing  the 
"  Elopement  in  fashionable  life,"  — 
seme  of  them  mentioning  the  names 
of  the  parties  by  initials.  One  of 
ihem  alluded  to  Mrs.  St.  Helen's  con- 
nection with  the  family  of  the  Earl  of 
Hetheringham,  whom  it  stated  the  af- 
flicting event  had  thrown  into  the 
deepest  distress,"  ifcc,  an  intimation 
so  intolerably  offensive  to  the  pure, 
fastidious  feelings  of  the  Counress, 
that  the  day  after  there  appeared  the 
following  paragraph.  I  give  verbatim 
the  heartless  disclaimer,  the  tone 
and  style  of  which  may  perhaps  serve 
to  indicate  the  disiinguished  quarter 
whence  it  emanated. 

"  We  have  been  requested,  on  the 
very  highest  authority,  to  take  the 
earliest  possible  opportunity  of  cor- 
recting an  unintentional  and  most  in- 
jurious misstatement  that  appeared  in 
our  yesterday's  paper,  concerning  the 
truly  unfortunate  and  most  distressing 

affair  in Street,  and  one  that  is 

calculated  to  wound  the  feelings  of  a 
family  of  very  high  distinction.  It  is 
not  true,  but  quite  contrary  to  the 
fact,  that  the  lady,  Mrs.  ******* 
was  educated  in  the  family  of  the  Earl 
of  Hetheringham.  She  is  certainly 
a  remote  connection  of  the  Earl's, 
and  when  extremely  young,  was  re- 
ceived on  a  visit  in  his  lordship's 
hpuse  till  some  family  arrangements 
had  been  completed ;  but  we  have 
been  given  to  understand  that  the  la- 
dy in  question  and  the  noble  family 
alluded  to,  have  been  long  alienated, 
particularly  the  female  branches."  In 
another  part  of  the  same  pnper  ap- 
peared the  intelligence  that   Mrs.  St. 

was    a  lady    of  great    personal 

beauty  and  accomplishments^  and  had 


left  a  family  of  six  children."  Ano- 
ther newspnper  informed  its  readers 
that  *'  the  gallant  companion  of  a  cer- 
tain lovely  fugitive  was  the  heir  pre- 
sumptive of  a  peerage  and  a  splendid 
fortune."  A  third,  "tliat  the  late 
elopement  was  likely  to  afford  lucra- 
tive employment  to  gentlemen  of  the 
long  robe."  A  fourth,  "that  the  hus- 
band of  a  lady,  whose  recent,  &c. 
was  an  officer  of  distinction,  had  long 
discarded  her,  owing  to  Jier  light  con- 
duct, and  was  now  taking  steps  to 
procure  a  divorce,"  &lc.  &lc.  &c. 
With  such  matters  was,  and  generally 
is,  titillated  the  prudent  curiosity  of 
fashionable  society  for  a  moment  only 
—  probably,  after  a  brief  interval,  it« 
attention  being  again  excited  by  inti- 
mations that  "the  lady  whose  elope- 
ment lately  occasioned  much  stir  in 
the  fashionable  circles,"  had  destroy- 
ed herself,  or  betaken  herself  to  most 
reckless    and     dishonorable    courses, 

&/C. ;  and  that  Captain  A was, 

they  understood,  about  to  lead  to  the 
hymeneal  altar  the  lovely  and  accom- 
plished Miss ,  &,c.  &c.     This, 

I  say,  is  not  an  un frequent  case  ;  but 
not  such  was  the  course  of  events  con- 
sequent upon  the  enormous  wicked- 
ness of  Mrs.  St.  Helen. 

During  Monday  the  deserted  little 
St.  Helens  were  removed,  accompa- 
nied by  Miss  Churchill,  to  the  resi- 
dence of  Mrs.    Ogilvie,  the    General 

continued  at Street  to  receive  the 

Colonel  when  he  should  arrive,  and, 
in  what  way  he  best  might,  break  to 
him  the  disastrous  intelligence  of  his 
wife's  infidelity  and  flight.  As  it  was 
uncertain  when  and  from  what  quar- 
ter Colonel  St.  Helen  would  reach 
the  metropolis,  it  was  of  course  im- 
possible to   anticipate    or  prevent  his 

arrival  at Street,  even  had  such 

a  measure  been  desirable. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 


T  H  K      H  IT  S  B  A  .N'  U      AND      T  H  K      CHILDREN 


On  the  even'm(T  of  Thursday,  a 
post-chaise  and  four,  covered  with 
dust,  rattled  rapidly  round  the  corner 
of ■ —  Sffuare,  and  in  a  few  mo- 
ments the  reeking  horses  stood  panl- 
mg  at  the  door  of  Colonel  St.  Helen's. 
Before  either  of  the  postilions  could 
dismount,  or  the  servant  open  the  hall 
door,  or  General  Ogilvie,  who  was 
sitting  in  the  dining  room,  make  his 
appearance,  the  chaise  door  was  open- 
ed from  within,  the  steps  thrust  down, 
and  forth  sprung  a  gentleman  in  dus- 
ty travelling  costume,  his  left  arm  in 
a  sling,  and  rushed  up  to  the  door  of 
the  house.  While  his  impatient  hand 
was  thundering  with  the  knocker  the 
door  was  opened. 

"  Is  Mrs.  St.  Helen  "  he  commenc- 
ed in  eager  and  joyful  accents,  which, 
however,  ?u(hlenly  ceased  at  sight  of 
the  servant  standing,  pale  as  death, 
trembling  and  silent. 

"  Why,  what's  the  matter?"  stam- 
n»ered  Colonel  St.  Helen,  for  he  of 
course  it  was,  "  Ah,  Ogilvie!  "■  rush- 
ing towards  the  General,  who  having 
paused  fnr  an  instant  before  present- 
ing himself,  now  quitted  the  dining- 
room  and  hurried  up  to  the  startled 
Colonel. 

"  My  dear  St.  Helen  !  "  commenc- 
ed the  General,  his  agitation  appar- 
ent. A  mighty  sigh  burst  from  the 
swelling  bosom  of  Colonel  St.  Helen 
as  he  suffered  himself  to  be  drawn  in- 
to the  dining  room. 

"  Wliat's  all  this?"  he  iiujuired  in 
a  hoarse,  hard  whisper,  as  General 
Ogilvie  shut  the  door.  He  was  for  a 
moment  tongue-tied   at   sight  of  the 


fong-dreaded  apparition  which  now  so 
suddenly  stood  before  him.  TheCo^ 
lonel's  face  became  overspread  with  a 
deadly  hue  as  he  made  the  inquiry, 
and  his  right  hand  still  locked  that  of 
General  Ogilvie  in  its  rigid  grasp. 

"  St.  Helen,  you  must  bear  it  like 
a  man  and  a  soldier,"  at  length  com- 
menced the  General,  recovering  him- 
self.    "  The  chances  of  war"  — 

"  Is  she  dead  ?  "  gasped  the  Colo- 
nel,'without  moving  from  where  he 
stood,  or  relaxing  his  hold  of  General 
Ogilvie's  hand. 

**  No,"  replied  the  General,  turn- 
ing as  pale  as  his  companion. 

"  Then,  what,  in  the  name  of  God  ? 
tell  me  !  "  whispered  Colonel  St.  He- 
len, his  eyes  almost  starting  out  of 
their  sockets,  while  the  drops  of  per- 
spiration stood  upon  his  forehead.  At 
a  word  spoken  in  a  low  tone  by  Gen- 
eral Ogilvie,  the  Colonel  started  as  if 
he  had  been  stabbed,  and  then  lay  ex- 
tended upon  the  floor.  The  General 
sprung  to  the  bell,  and  shouted  vio- 
lently for  assistance.  The  room  was 
instantly  almost  filled  with  servants. 
One  of  them  was  despatched  for  me, 
and  another  for  the  nearest  surgeon. 
The  latter  arrived  in  a  very  few  min- 
utes, and  I  was  in  attendance  within 
little  less  than  a  quarter  of  an  hour, 
for  the  man,  knowing  my  carriage, 
stopped  it  as  it  was  entering  the  street 
in  which  I  lived.  I  found  Colonel 
St.  Helen  propped  up  in  bed  in  the 
arms  of  General  Ogilvie,  his  coat  and 
waistcoat  and  neck-handkerchiefoiily 
had  been  removed,  and  his  shirl-col- 
lar  thrown  open.  The  heavy  snorting 


THE  DESTROYER. 


14 


sound  that  met  my  ears  prepared  mo 
for  the  worst.  Colonel  St.  Helen  was 
in  a  fit  of  apoplexy.  Within  a  min- 
ute or  two  after  my  entrance  the  jug- 
ular vein  was  opened  ;  that  in  the  arm 
had  criven  no  relief  Oh,  that  his  in- 
famous wife  could  have  been  by  my 
side  as  I  gazed  upon  the  lamentable 
object  before  me  ?  Here,  woman,  be- 
hold your  handiwork  ! 

He  had  been  ever  foremost  in  fight 
—  he  had  braved  death  in  a  thousand 
forms;  the  flag  of  victory  had  often 
waved  gloriously  over  him  ;  he  had 
quitted  the  field  with  honorable 
wounds ;  his  grateful  country  wel- 
comed her  galbint  disabled  son  ;  his 
affectionate  wife,  he  thought,  stretch- 
ed forth  her  eager  arms  to  receive 
him  ;  after  months  of  agony,  on  the 
wings  of  love  he  had  flown  seven 
thousand  long  miles  to  be  —  blasted, 
as  here  he  lay  before  me  ' 

Sad  sights  have  I  seen  in  my  time, 
but  when  one  so  sad  as  this?  My 
swelling  heart  overpowers  me.  Poor 
Colonel,  what  can  my  art  do  for  thee  ? 

And  thou,  Alverley,  come  hither 
thou,  for  a  moment,  slayer  of  the  ho- 
nor and  peace  of  a  brave  brother  sol- 
dier !  Quit  for  a  moment  the  cocka- 
trice, thy  companion,  to  look  upon 
this  victim  of  your  united  treachery  ! 
Oh,  out  upon  thee,  thy  presence  cor- 
rupts the  air  !  Down,  down  to  hell  ! 
But  no,  I  rave  ;  society  will  presently 
welcome  you  again,  gay  Alverley,  to 
her  harlot  bosom  I 

Tliough  a  large  opening  had  been 
made  in  the  jugular  vein,  thro'  which 
the  blood  was  flowing  copiously,  no 
impression  whatever  seemed  made,  or 
likely  to  be  made,  upon  the  violence 
of  the  attack.  I  therefore  recom- 
mended opening  the  turgid  temporal 
artery,  which  was  done,  and  large 
blisters  to  be  applied  to  the  nape  of 
the  neck  and  to  the  extremities,  the 
usual  means  resorted  to  in  violent  ap- 
oplectic seizures.  I  waited  for  up- 
wards of  an  hour,  and  was  then  obli- 


ged to  leave  my  unhappy,  but  perhaps 
happily  unconscious  patient,  in  appar- 
ently the  same  state  as  that  in  which 
I  found  him.  I  paid  him  anoliier  vi- 
sit early  in  the  morning  ;  still  he  lay 
in  extreme  danger,  having  been  bled 
twice  through  the  night,  but  without 
any  sensible  effect.  I  willingly  ac- 
ceded to  the  General's   desire  for  an 

immediate  consultation  with  Sir 

,  which    accordingly  took  place 

about  two  o'clock.  The  result  was 
that  we  expressed  a  strong  opinion, 
that  unless  a  decided  change  took 
place  in  an  hour  or  two,  the  attack 
would  prove  fatal.  Why  should  I  wish 
it,  I  thought,  otherwise  ?  What  hope- 
less anguish  would  be  spared  him 
were  he  never  to  awake  to  a  con- 
sciousness of  the  tremendous  calami- 
ty that  had  befallen  him?  What  could 
life  henceforth  be  to  him  ?  How  could 
his  grievous  wounds  be  healed,  or 
even  stanched?  How  could  his  wrongs 
be  repaired,  mitigated,  or  concealed  ? 
What  bitter  agony  would  the  sight  of 
his  children  even  force  into  his  heart? 
I  thought  of  all  this,  and  for  a  mo- 
ment did  not  feel  anxious  that  success 
should  attend  our  strenuous  efforts  to 
save  him.  They  succeeded,  however, 
and  in  three  or  four  days'  time  it 
seemed  probable  that  the  unhappy 
sufferer  would  live  to  become  ac- 
quainted with  the  full  extent  of  his 
misery,  to  drain,  perhaps,  the  cup  of 
sorrow  to  the  dregs.  I  was  in  the 
room  when  his  eyes  gave  almost  their 
first  look  of  returning  consciousness. 
Oh,  dreadful  contrast  to  the  gay  and 
happy  man  I  last  saw  him  before  his 
departure  for  India  !  His  hair  was 
now  somewhat  of  an  iron  grey  hue; 
his  complexion  had  become  deeply 
bronzed  by  his  constant  exposure  to 
the  rays  of  an  Indian  sun.  Despite, 
however,  his  present  extreme  exhaus- 
tion, and  the  sunken  sallowness  of  his 
countenance,  it  was  impossible  not  to 
perceive  its  superior  air,  the  linea- 
ments of  that  bold  and  resolute  char- 


42 


THE  DESTROYER. 


acter  for  wliicli  CdIoiioI  St.  Helen  had 
ever  been  disliii(ruis:hed.  But  where 
wns  ilie  wonted  liic  of  lliose  dark  eyes 
that  were  luuv  directed  towards  nie 
drowsily  and  unconsciously  ?  Was  he 
then  aware  of  the  cause  of  his  illness, 
or  was  the  frightful  trulli  breaking 
bitterly  and  slowly  upon  his  reviving 
Hiculties  ?  God  grant  that  the  latter 
might  prove  to  be.  the  case,  or  the 
consequences  might  be  disastrous  in- 
deed ! 

For  nearly  a  fortnight  he  lay  in  a 
kind  of  lethargy,  never  once  speaking 
or  apparently  taking  any  notice  of 
■what  was  passing  about  him.  Innu- 
merable calls  were  made  at  his  house 
and  inquiries  concerning  his  health 
by  a  large  circle  of  attached  and  sym- 
pathizing friends.  His  Royal  High- 
ness the  Commander  in  Chief  sent 
almost  daily  to  know  how  he  was  go- 
ing on.  As  soon  as  I  thought  it  ad- 
visable, I  intimated  my  an.xious  wish 
that  he  should  have  the  advantage  of 
a  change  of  scene  ;  and  as  soon  as  he 
was  able  to  be  removed,  travel  by  ea- 
sy stage.s  to  Cheltenham.  He  simply 
shook  his  head  sorrowfully,  at  the 
same  time  raising  his  hand  as  if  de- 
precating the  mention  of  it.  Of  course 
I  desisted.  The  next  time  I  called, 
his  female  attendant  met  me  on  the 
stairs,  and  gave  me  to  understand  that 
he  had  begged  the  proposal  might  not 
be  renewed,  as  he  was  determined  not 

to  quit street.       Before  leaving 

him  that  day,  General  Ogilvie  follow- 
ed me,  and  told  me  that  the  Colonel, 
who  had  not  once  made  any  allusion 
to  what  had  taken  place,  suddenly  in- 
quired, in  the  course  of  the  morning, 
in  a  faint  tone,  where  his  children 
were,  and  on  being  informed,  express- 
ed a  wish  to  see  them.  After  some 
hesitation  I  consented  to  their  being 
brought  the  next  day  for  a  few  min- 
utes only  ;  the  General  having  assured 
nie  that  I  could  not  overrate  the  for- 
tiliirle  of  his  suffering  relative.  "De- 
pend upon  it  he  will  bear  the  sicrhtof 


them,"  said  the  General,  "better  than 
you  imagine,  though  certaiidy  Ida 
nerves  must  have  been  much  shaken. 
How  shall  we  arrange  it?  I  should 
very  much  wish  you  to  be  present, 
Doctor,  if  you  could  contrive  it."  I 
promised  not  oidy  to  be  present,  but 
that,  as  I  could  easily  arrange  it,  I 
would  myself  call  and  bring  Mrs. 
Ogilvie  and  the  children,  and  so  it 
was  decided.  The  next  afternoon, 
therefore,  about  three  o'clock,  on  my 
return  from  visiting  a  patient  in  the 
neighborhood  of  General  Ogilvie's  re- 
sidence, I  called  there,  but  found 
Mrs.  Ogilvie  on  the  point  of  going 
out,  not  having  received  any  intima- 
tion of  our  arrangement.  She  instant- 
ly, however,  agreed  to  accompany  us. 
"  And  how  are  your  little  nepliews?  " 
1  inquired. 

"Oh,  they  are  very  well,"  she  re- 
plied with  a  sigh  ;  "  a  child's  grief  is 
not  very  deep  or  lasting;  Arthur  was 
as  merry  the  next  morning  after  leav- 
ing   street,  as  if  nothing  had  hap- 
pened. Now  and  then,  however,  he 
asks  me  where  his  mamma  is,  and 
when  he  shall  go  to  see  her,  or  when 
she  will  come  here?  But  when  he 
sees  me  sometimes  suddenly  turn 
aside  my  head,  to  hide  the  tears  that 
force  themselves  into  my  eyes,  the 
poor  child  thinks  that  I  am  angry  with 
him,  and  kisses  me,  throwing  his  arms 
round  my  neck,  and  saying  that  he 
will  never  ask  to  see  his  mamma 
again.  He  soon,  however,  forgets  his 
promise,"  added  Mrs.  Ogilvie  with 
emotion.  "  Here  they  are  at  present, 
as  merry  as  they  can  be,"  she  contin- 
ued, opening  the  folding  doors,  and 
walking  into  a  room  that  looked  upon 
a  pleasant  garden.  "  Alas,  that  they 
slundd  ever  hear  of  what  has  caused 
all  our  .sorrow  !  " 

The  two  little  boys  were  romping 
about  upon  the  grass  plot  in  high  glee, 
running  after  and  rolling  over  one 
another.  How  like  the  elder  one  was 
to  his  wretched  mother !     The  eaioe 


THE  DESTROYER. 


43 


bright  blue  eye,  the  same  beaut ifully- 
fonned  chin  and  mouth  !  I  dreaded 
the  efTect  of  his  standing  suddenly  be- 
fore his  father.  Tbe  younger  child, 
George,  as  lively  as  a  cricket,  and  as 
brown  as  a  berry,  bore  some  little  ge- 
neral resemblance  to  his  father. 

Oh,  how  could  your  mother  look 
upon  your  little  faces,  and  listen  to 
your  prattle,  and  feel  your  tiny  arms 
embracing  her,  and  forget  that  she 
had  borne  you  1  That  you  were  the 
fruit  of  her  womb  !  That  your  little 
lips  had  a  thousand  times  drawn  nur- 
ture from  her  maternal  bosom  !  All 
the  myriad  of  delicious  agonies  and 
ecstasies  of  a  mother  !  Her  generous, 
confidi;  g,  absent  husband  !  How 
could  she,  knowing  all  this,  recollect- 
ing all  this,  deliberately  surrender 
herself  to  destruction,  and  prefer  the 
blighting  companionship  of  a  fiend, 
an  adulterer  ! 

"Now,  Arthur  and  George,"  said 
Mrs.  Ogilvie  as  we  approached  them 
in  the  garden,  "  you  must  be  good 
children,  and  go  and  get  dressed,  and 
I  will  take  you  both  out." 

"What!  a  drive  in  the  carriage? 
I  love  the  ponies  !  "  replied  George, 
eagerly. 

"  Yes,  my  love,  we  are  going  to 
take  you  to  see  papa." 

"  No,  no,  I  shall  not  go  there.  I 
don't  like  my  papa.  He  has  taken 
my  mamma  away." 

"  No,  child,  do  not  talk  such  non- 
sense;  papa  has  done  no  such  thing. 
Poor  papa  is  very  ill,"  replied  Mrs. 
Ggilvie,  tremulously,  "  and  wishes  to 
fee  his  little  boys." 

"  I  don't  know  my  papa,"  said  the 
child,  pouting,  and  sidling  away  from 
us.  "  He's  a  very,  very  great  way 
off;  but  if  you'll  let  mamma  go  with 
us,  then  I  don't  care." 

"  Your  papa,"  said  I,  observing 
Mrs.  Ogilvie's  emotion,  "  does  not 
know  where  your  mamma  is."  The 
child  seemed  quite  puzzled  at  all  th.s. 
"  Will  you  go  with  us,  then  ?  "  he  in- 
quired, turning  to  Mrs.  Ogilvie, 


"  Yes.  love." 

"  Isn't  my  f  ther  a  very  great  offi- 
cer 1  "  he  inquired  abruptly.  "  He 
has  killed,  oh,  such  a  number  (»f  peo- 
ple, I  am  talk  !  Do  you  think  he  will 
like  to  see  us  ?  " 

"  Yes,  indeed,  Arthur,  and  he  will 
love  you  very  dearly  !"  replied  Mrs. 
Ogilvie,  with  a  faltering  voice,  leading 
her  little  nephews  into  the  house. 
They  were  not  long  in  being  dressed, 
and  we  were  presently  on  our  way  to 
town.  I  began  to  feel  rather  more 
apprehensive  of  the  propriety  of  al- 
lowing the  interview  when  I  saw  how 
his  mother  was  running  in  Arthur's 
head.  Suppose  he  were  bluntly  to 
ask  his  father  what  had  become  of 
her?  I  whispered  my  apprehensions 
to  Mrs.  Ogilvie,  and  found  them  shar- 
ed by  her.  She  had  not  seen  her 
brother  since  his  return  from  India, 
and  declared  herself  perfectly  inca- 
pable of  bearing  an  interview  with 
him  at  present,  even  were  he  able  to 

receive  her.     As  we  turned  into 

street,  the  children  became  very  rest- 
less ;  and  when  we  reached  the  house, 
Arthur  looked  up  at  it  ap  rehensive- 
ly,  and  refused  at  first  to  quit  the  car- 
riage. We  succeeded,  however,  in 
inducing  him  to  do  so,  and  in  paci- 
fying him,  and  both  the  children  were 
conducted  into  the  library,  where 
Mrs.  Ogilvie  undertook  to  occupy 
their  attention,  while  I  repaired  to  the 
Colonel's  bedroom,  to  ascertain  how 
he  was.  I  found  him  very  little 
changed  from  what  I  had  seen  him  on 
the  preceding  day,  except  that  there 
was  an  evident  restlessness  and  anxi- 
ety about  the  eyes.  Probably  he  was 
aware  that  his  children  had  arrived. 
General  Ogilvie,  who  rarely  quitted 
the  chamber  of  his  suffering  brother- 
in-law,  sat  in  his  accustomed  chair 
beside.  I  sat  down  in  the  one  usual- 
ly placed  for  me ;  while  my  finger 
was  on  his  pulse,  and  my  eye  on  my, 
watch,  the  Colonel  said  in  a  low  tone, 
"  They  are  come,  are  they  not  ?  "  I 
told  him  they  were  below^ 


44 


THE  DESTROYER. 


"  Let  them  be  brought  up  then,  if 
you  please,  but  only  one  at  a  time," 
said  ho,  a  faint  flush  appearing  on  his 
check.  General  Ogilvie  immediately 
left  the  room,  but  not  without  first 
caslinir  an  anxious  glance  at  me. 

You  are  both,  I  can  see,  appre- 
hensive on  my  account,"  he  whisper- 
ed ;  "  but  I  am  perfectly  aware  of  my 
situation.  He  must  not  be  long  in 
the  room,  however,  I  may  not  be  so 
strong  as  I  think  mjself "  In  a  few 
moments  Gener?!  Ogilvie  returned, 
leading  in  his  little  companion,  who 
entered  with  evident  reluctance,  look- 
ing with  some  fear  towards  the  bed 
where  his  father  lay. 

"  You  are  a  very  good  child,  Ar- 
thur," said  I,  in  a  soothing  tone,  hold- 
ing out  my  hand  to  receive  him,  in- 
wardly cursing  at  the  moment  his  re- 
seml)lance  to  Mrs.  St.  Helen,  which 
just  then  ppeared  to  me  stronger 
than  ever.  "  Come  and  ask  your 
papa  how  he  i.s  !  "  The  child  came 
and  stood  between  my  knees.  Can  I 
ever  forget  the  looks  with  which  that 
father  and  son,  on  this  their  bitter 
meeting,  regarded  one  another?  Nei- 
ther spoke.  It  would  be  in  vain  to 
attempt  describing  that  of  the  former  ; 
as  for  little  Arthur,  his  face  showed  a 
mingled  expression  of  apprehension 
and  wonder.  "  Speak  to  your  papa," 
I  whispered,  observing  him  slowly 
moving  away  ;  "  he  is  very  poorly  !  " 
He  looked  at  me  for  a  moment,  and 
then  faintly  exclaimed,  gazing  at  Co- 
lonel St.  Helen,  "  Papa,  I  love  you." 
The  poor  colonel  turned  his  head 
away  and  closed  his  eyes.  In  vain  he 
strove  to  compress  his  quivering  lip  ; 
nature  would  conquer,  and  the  tears 
8oon  forced  themselves  through  his 
closed  eyelids.  I  wish  Mrs.  St.  Helen 
could  have  seen  the  unutterable  an- 
guish visible  in  his  features  when  he 
turned  agiin  to  look  upon  the  little 
couMtennnce  «o  much  resembling  hers. 
After  giziiig  thus  for  sf)me  moments 
in  silence  upon  the  child,  he  whisper- 
ed, "  Kiss  me,  Arthur."     He  did  so. 


"  Ro  you  love  me  ?  "  inquired  his 
father. 

"  Yes,  papa."  The  Colonel  stretch- 
ed out  his  arms  to  embrace  his  son, 
but  his  left  arm  instantly  fell  again 
powerless  beside  him.  He  shook  his 
head  and  sighed. 

"  Do  you  recollect  me,  Arthur  ?  " 
he  inquired.  The  child  looked  at  me 
and  made  no  answer. 

"  Do  you  love  your  little  brother 
George  ?  "  asked  the  Colonel  languid- 
ly- 

"  Yes,  very  much  ;  I'll  go  and  fetch 
him,  papa;  he  will  love  you,  too;  he 
is  down  stairs."  Every  fibre  of  Colo- 
nel St.  Helen's  face  quivered  with 
emotion.  His  eyes  overflowed  with 
tears,  and  he  whispered  : 

"  I  feel  I  cannot  bear  it ;  he  had 
betler  go. 

"  General,"  said  I,  "  will  you  take 
him  down  stairs?  We  fatigue  Colonel 
St.  Helen."  But  he  made  me  no  an- 
swer. He  was  looking  away,  and  the 
tears  fell.  I  therefore  rose,  and  after 
lifting  up  the  child  again  to  kiss  his 
parent,  led  him  down  stairs,  thankful 
that  he  had  not  tortured  his  father  by 
any  allusion  to  his  wretched  and  de- 
graded mother.  On  my  return  I  found 
Colonel  St.  Helen  much  exhausted, 
and  evidently  suffering  acutely  from 
the  distracting  feelings  excited  by  his 
son's  presence. 

He  recovered,  but  very  slowly,  dur- 
ing the  ensuing  month,  from  as  severe 
an  attack  of  apoplexy  as  I  had  ever 
witnessed.  The  grief  that  was  prey- 
ing upon  his  heart  soon  showed  itself 
in  the  settled  gloom  with  which  his 
emaciated  features  were  laden,  and 
which,  coupled  with  his  dangerous  ill- 
ness, and  tlie  violent  remedies  we  were 
compelled  to  adopt  in  order  to  subdue 
it,  reduced  him  almost  to  a  skeleton. 
He  had  indeed  fallen  awny  most  sur- 
prisingly. A  fine  muscular  nsan  when 
in  health,  he  looked  now  as  if  he  had 
returned  from  India  in  a  deep  decline. 
He  would  sit  alone,  and  speechless, 
for  hours,  and  took  even  his  ordinary 


THE  DESTROYER 


45 


nourishment  with  visible  rehictance. 
When  his  children  entered  into  his 
presence  —  they  were  brought  to  him 
daily  —  he  received  them  with  affec- 
tion, but  his  manner  oppressed  them. 
Alas!  he  had  now  no  smiles  with 
which  to  welcome  and  return  any  of 
those  liitle  overtures  towards  cheer- 
fulness ;  in  the  midst  of  any  faint  at- 
tempt at  merriment  on  their  part,  he 
would  rise  and  suddenly  clasp  them 
to  his  widowed  heart  in  silent  agony. 
The  manner  in  which,  at  a  former 
period  of  his  illness,  he  had  rejected 
the  proposals  made  to  him  of  a  change 
of  scene,  prevented  its  being  renewed. 
One  morning,  however,  he  suddenly 
asked  General  Ogilvie  if  he  could 
give  him  a  home  for  a  few  months  ; 
and  on  being  assured  of  the  affection- 
ate welcome  with  which  he  would  be 
received,    he   expressed    a  desire  to 


quit 
ing. 


street  on  the  ensuing  morn- 

Ile   forthwith    gave    directions 


for  his  house,  with  all  its  furniture  of 
every  description,  to  be  sold  ;  and  the 
clothes,  trinkets,  and  such  personal 
ornaments  of  Mrs.  St.  Helen  as  were 
in  the  house  he  ordered  to  be  de- 
stroyed. He  exacted  a  pledge  to  this 
effect  from  General  Ogilvie.  On  its 
being  given  he  took  his  arm,  and  — 
shadow  of  his  former  self!  — stepped 
languidly  into  the  General's  carriage, 
drew    down    the   blinds,  and   quitted 

Street  for  ever.     The  day  after, 

in  passing  the  house,  I  saw  great 
staring  bills  in  the  window,  and  a 
board  on  the  walls  —  "  This  House 
to  be  Sold."  To  this  day  I  never 
glance  at  such  objects  without  being 
suddenly  and  painfully  reminded  of 
the  events  which  are  detailed  in  this 
chapter. 


CHAPTER    IX. 


PLANS 


BUT      WHAT      NEXT? 


I  COULD  gain  no  intelligence  what- 
ever of  tlic  destination  or  movements 
of  Mrs.   St.  Helen  ;  it  was  generally 
supposed  that  she  had   gone  and  still 
remained    abroad,    in   company   with 
Captain  Alverley.   I  expected  in  each 
day's  paper  to  hear  of  her  having  com- 
inilled  suicide ;   and  for   that  reason, 
never  omitted  to   cast  my  eye  over  a 
paragraph    headed    with    "  Coroner's 
Inquest,"  or   "  Distressing  Suicide." 
Not  so,  however  ;  she   was    reserved 
for  severer  sufferings,   a  more    signal 
punishment,  a  more  lamentable  end  ! 
Captain    Alverley   made    his    appear- 
ance in  London  about  six  weeks  after 
the  elopement ;   and  in  passing  along 
St.  James's  Park,  he  came   upon  his 
Royal  Highness   the    Commander   in 
Chief,  who  was    returning  on  horse- 
back from    the    Horse  Guards.     He 
drew  up,  and   motioned   Captain    Al- 
verley, his  aide-de-camj),  to  approach, 
rebuked  him  sternly  and    indignantly 
for  the  cruel  and  infamous  outrage  he 
had  committed,  commanding  him  ne- 
ver again  to  enter  his  presence.    The 
Duke  rode  off  with  a  haughty  scowl, 
leavinw   Captain    Alverley  apparently 
thunderstruck.     This  incident  found 
its  way  into    the    next   day's  papers  ; 
and  Captain  Alverley,  |)erceiving  him- 
self in  general  bad  odor,  threw  up  his 
commission,    and    withdrew,    it    was 
supposed,  to  the  continent.     The  ex- 
cellent Duke  of  York,  indeed,  evinc- 
ed  from    the  first  the  greatest  .sympa- 
thy with  Colonel   St.    Helen ;   and   as 
soon  as  he  thought  he  might  safely  do 
so,  sent  him  a  letter,  by  a  distinguish- 
ed general  oflier,  also  a  friend  of  the 


colonel's,  full  of  the  kindlest  and  most 
condescending  expressions,  and  inti- 
mating his  wish  to  see  him  at  the 
Horse  Guards  at  the  earliest  possible 
opportunity.  He  added  that  he  was 
authorised  to  stale,  that  his  JNIajesty 
had  expressed  a  sincere  sympathy  for 
his  sufferings,  and  the  highest  appro- 
bation of  his  gallant  conduct  abroad. 
The  colonel  sighed  on  reading  these 
flattering  communications. 

"  Tell  his  Royal  Highness,"  said 
he,  "  that  I  am  very  grateful  for  his 
condescension  ;  and  the  moment  I  am 
able,  I  will  attend  him  personally  and 
say  as  much." 

"I   was    not  exactly  authorized," 

said   Lord  ,  "  to   mention  it  to 

you,  but  you  are  to  have  the  — th  ;  I 
heard  his  Royal  Highness  say  as 
much." 

"  Pray  tell    his    Royal    Highness," 

replied  the  colonel,  with  a  melancholy 

air,  "  that  I    cannot  accept  it ;   for  I 

return  to  India  by  the  next  ship  !  " 

"  Good  God  !     Colonel  St.  Helen, 

return  to  India  1  "  echoed  Lord 

with  an  air  of  infinite  astonishment. 

"  Can  I  remain  in  England  ?  "  sud- 
denly in(]uired  the  colonel,  with  a  look 

that  silenced  Lord ,  hastily  rising 

and  standing  for  a  few  moments  with 
his  back  turned  towards  him,  evident- 
ly overpowered  by  his  feelings.  Nei- 
ther spoke  for  a  few  moments. 

"  I  cannot    tell    this    to   his  Royal 

Highness,"  said  Lord  ,  "  I  know 

he  will  ask  me  everything  that  has 
passed  at  our  interview." 

"  Then  tell  him,  my  lord,  my  last 
words  to  you  were,  that  my  heart  is 


THE  DESTROYER. 


47 


broken,  hilt  my  will  is  not;  I  shall 
go  to  India,  if  I  live,  and  that  as  soon 
as  possible." 

Lord saw  that  he  was  inflexi- 
ble, and  abstained  from  further  impor- 
tunities. 

Three  months  had  now  elapsed 
from  the  day  on  which  Colonel  St. 
Helen  arrived  in  England  to  encoun- 
ter so  fell  a  blight  of  his  fondest 
hopes,  his  brightest  prospects  ;  and  he 
had  made  his  final  and  gloomy  prepa- 
rations for  returning  to  India.  Not- 
withstanding the  sympathizing  and 
affectionate  attachment  of  General 
and  Mrs.  Ogilvie,  had  it  not  been  for 
the  daily  sight  of  his  children,  those 
innocent,  helpless,  deserted  beings, 
whom  he  himself  was  about  to  desert, 
he  would  have  lost  almost  all  sympa- 
thy with  mankind.  His  heart  yearn- 
ed towards  his  little  sons,  but  his  res- 
olution had  been  taken,  and  was  un- 
changeable, to  return  to  India,  and 
amidst  the  scenes  of  direful  carnage 
he  had  there  witnessed,  to  seek  in  an 
honorable  death  release  from  the  ago- 
nies he  suffered.  He  arranged  all  his 
affairs  evidently  on  the  basis  of  his 
being  about  to  leave  England  forever. 
His  purposes  with  reference  to  his 
children  might  have  been  varied,  but 
for  the  fond  and  zealous  guardian  they 
found  in  General  and  Mrs.  Ogilvie. 
It  was  not  till  within  a  very  short  pe- 
riod of  his  departure,  iha  the  could 
bear  to  ask  from  the  former  a  detailed 
account  of  all  that  had  happened.  He 
heard  the  name  of  Alverley  mention- 
ed in  silence.  He  inquired  for  a  while 
where  he  was  supposed  to  be,  and  ne- 
ver again  alluded  to  him.  The  name 
of  Mrs.  St.  Helen  never  escaped  his 
lips. 

When  he  presented  himself  before 
the  Commander  in  Chief,  he  met  with 
a  most  gracious  reception.  His  Roy- 
al Highness  shook  him  warmly  by  the 
hand,  and  with  a  quivering  lip  as- 
sured him  of  his  sympathy  and  perso- 
nal regard. 


"  Is  your  resolution  to  return  to  In- 
dia, Colonel  St.  Helen,  unalterable?" 
inquired  the  Duke.  The  colonel 
bowed  ;  his  air  and  manner  sati.sfied 
the  Duke  of  the  nselcssness  of  expos- 
tulation. No  ;  in  vain  were  the  in- 
treaties  of  royalty  ;  in  vain  the  pas- 
sionate tears  and  embraces  of  his  sis- 
ter ;  in  vain  the  energetic  remons- 
trances of  General  Ogilvie  ;  in  vain 
were  his  children  flung  by  his  sister 
into  his  arms  and  upon  his  knees  in 
an  ecstasy  of  grief.  His  darkening 
countenance  told  how  vain  were  all 
such  appeals.  His  passage  was  en- 
gaged in  a  ship  quitting  the  Thames 
in  a  few  days'  time.  His  servant  had 
already  packed  up  almost  all  tliat  was 
to  be  taken  aboard.  The  dreaded 
morning  arrived  ;  he  tenderly  em- 
braced his  sister  and  his  children  be- 
fore setting  off  for  town  ;  finally,  as  he 
had  determined,  but  only  a  few  hours 
as  they  supposed,  understanding  that 
he  would  return  in  the  afternoon  to 
bid  them  adieu  for  ever. 

When  he  and  General  Ogilvie  were 
waiting  in    a    back  room   at  Messrs. 

,  the   army   agents,  where  he 

wished  to  make  some  final  pecuniary 
arrangements,  his  eye  happened  to  fall 
upon  a  paragraph  which  he  read  with 
almost  a  suspension  of  his  breath  and 
a  face  suddenly  flashed  with  excite- 
ment. 

"  Ogilvie  !  "  said  he,  turning  to  his 
astonished  brother-in-law  a  counten- 
ance that  had  quickly  become  white 
as  death,  and  speaking  in  a  totally 
different  voice  from  any  that  had  been 
heard  from  him  since  his  illness,  "I 
have  changed  my  mind.  I  shall  not 
go  to  India.  At  all  events,  not  at 
present." 

"  I  am  delighted  to  hear  it,"  said 
the  Generat,  confounded  at  the  sud- 
denness of  the  information  as  much 
as  at  the  manner  in  which  it  was  ex- 
pressed;  "  but,  good  God  !  what  has 
happened?  what  has   agitated  you  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  agitated,"  replied  Colo- 


48 


THE  DESTROYER. 


nel  St.  Helen,  with  a  violent  cfTorl  to 
speik  c;ilnily,  at  the  same  time  rising 
from  his  chair,  and  folding  up  the 
newspaper  he  had  been  reading. 
"Can  you  spare  tliis?"  said  he  to 
the  clerk  wliom  lie  had  suiDmoned 
into  tlie  room.  lie  was  answered  in 
the  alRrmative.      "  Then  you  may  tell 

Mr.  to   give   himself  no  further 

trouble  about  the  business  I  called 
upon  ;  be  so  good  as  to  tell  him  that 
I  have  made  some  change  in  my  ar- 
rangements. Shall  we  walk  home, 
Ogilvie?"  They  quitted  Messrs. 
's  immediately. 

"  St.  Helen,"  said  General  Ogilvie 
as  they  left,  "  I  protest  that  I  will  not 
return  home  with  you  till  you  have 
told  me  what  has  occasioned  this  ex- 
traordinary change  of  manner  and 
purpose." 

"  My  dear  Ogilvie,  you  shall  know 
all  ;  read  this,"  said  the  colonel,  tak- 
ing out  the  newspaper,  and  unfolding 
it,  he  pointed  out  the  following  para- 
graph : 

"  By  the  death  of  the  Right  Hon. 
Lord  Seckington,  Captain  Alverley, 
formerly  of  the Guards,  suc- 
ceeds to  the  title  and  estates,  which 
are  great,  as  well  as  the  splendid  ac- 
cumulations of  landed  property  said 
to  have  been  made  by  the  late  Lord 
S.,  who  has  bequeathed  everything  to 
the  present  Lord  Seckington.  He  is 
now  abroad,  but  is  daily  expected  in 
Street." 

"  Well !  "  exclaimed  the  General, 
after  having  read  the  paragraph  twice 
over  in  perturbed  silence,  returning 
the  paper,  "  of  course  it  is  easy  to 
guess  your  intentions." 

"  Intentions  !  "  exclaimed  Colonel 
St.  Helen  with  great  vivacity  ;  "  this 
is  the  first  time  I  have  breathed  freely 
since  my  return  to  England." 

"  Do  you,  then,  really  think  of 
meeting  this  man  ? "  iiujuired  the 
General,  gravely,  after  a  pause. 

"  Meet  him  ?  Do  I  intend  to  meet 
him  1   Ogilvie,  you  vex  me  !  "  replied 


Colonel  St.  Helen,  briskly  and  bitter- 
ly, at  the  same  time  insensibly  quick- 
ening his  pace.  He  dragged  his  com- 
panion along  in  silence,  ot  such  a  ra- 
pid rate,  that  they  were  half  through 
the  Park  before  either  —  deeply  en- 
gaged with  his  thoughts  —  had  again 
spoken. 

"  Let  me  see,  how  shall  I  know 
when  he  arrives  in  London?"  said 
the  colonel  abruptly,  as  if  he  had 
thought  aloud. 

"Oh,  there  cannot  be  much  diffi- 
culty about  that,"  replied  the  General, 
who  had  satisfied  himself  of  the  hope- 
lessness of  attempting  to  dissuade  co- 
lonel St.  Helen  from  his  evident  pur- 
pose. *'  I  will  do  all  that  you  can 
possibly  desire,  since  "  — 

"  Dear  Ogilvie,  my  dear  good  bro- 
ther," said  the  colonel,  with  affection- 
ate energy,  "  do  you  think  1  shall  per- 
mit you  to  be  at  all  involved  in  this 
affair.  Mischief  may  come  of  it.  1 
cannot  deprive  my  sister  and  my  chil- 
dren of  your  presence,  even  for  a  mo- 
meni." 

"  You  shall  not  meet  him  unless  I 
am  at  your  elbow,"  interrupted  the 
General  with  a  determined  air  ;  "  I 
can  be  firm,  St.  Helen,  as  well  as 
you." 

"Ogilvie,  Ogilvie,  how  perfectly 
useless  this  is !  I  do  assure  you  that 
my  mind  is  fixed  unalterably.  It  can- 
not be;  it  shall  not  be.  May  I  fall  at 
the  first  fire  if  I  permit  you  to  be  on 
the  ground.  I  could  not  aim  steadily 
if  you  were  there.  No,  I  have  got 
my  man.      Darnley  will"  — 

"  I  hate  your  professed  duellists," 
interrupted  the  General,  with  irre- 
pressible agitation. 

"  They  are  made  for  such  an  affair 
as  mine,"  exclaimed  Colonel  St.  He- 
len, with  a  kind  of  cheerfulness  that 
was  sickening. 

General  Ogilvie  had  never  seen  so 
remarkable  a  change  so  quickly  effect- 
ed in  any  one. 

"  Have  you   thought  of  your  poor 


THE  DESTROYER. 


40 


boys  1  "  said  he,  as  they  approached 
home. 

"  Thank- God  that  my  sister  is  your 
wife,  that  you  are  my  brother  in  law," 
exclaimed  Colonel  St.  Helen,  in  a 
more  subdued  tone  than  that  in  which 
he  had  been  hitherto  speaking ;  they 
cannot  be  better  off!  " 

"  This  scoundrel  has  no  such  ties! 
You  don't  meet  on  equal  terms." 

"  Perhaps  not  exactly,  but  my  bul- 
let will  spoil  his  pretty  coronet  too!" 
He  paused,  and  a  grim  smile  passed 
over  his  features.  "  Poor  devil,"  he 
added,  with  a  bitter  air,  "  I  would 
give  a  trifle  to  be  present  when  Major 
Darnley  first  calls  upon  him.  It  will 
try  his  mettle,  rather,  won't  it  ?  "  al- 
most laughing,  but  such  a  laugh. 

"  Really,  St.  Helen,  this  has  turn- 
ed you  into  a  devil  !  "  exclaimed  Gen- 
eral Ogilvie. 

"The  best  thing  that  the  old  Lord 
Seckington  ever  did,"  said  Colonel 
St.  Helen  to  himself,  but  aloud,  as  if 
he  had  not  heard  his  companion's  re- 
mark, "  was  to  die  exactly  when  he 
did  die  ;  the  best  thing  that  has  hap- 
pened to  the  new  Lord  Seckington 
was,  to  become  Lord  Seckington  ex- 
actly when  he  did  become  Lord  Sec- 
kington ;  and  the  next  best  thing  was 
that  I  should  come  to  know  of  it  just 
when  I  did  come  to  know  of  it." 

"  You  are  certainly,  my  dear  St. 
Helen,  the  tnost  cruelly  injured  man 
living,"  said  General  Ogilvie,  after 
they  had  walked  for  some  minutes  in 
silence,  "  and  nobody  has  a  right  to 
interfere  with  you." 

"  I  should  think  not,"  replied  Co- 
lonel St.  Helen,  in  the  same  bitter 
tones  in  which  he  had  been  all  along 
speaking.  "  Ogilvie,"  he  added,  turn- 
ing suddenly  and  looking  him  full  in 
the  face,  "  no  treachery  !  By  your 
honor  as  a  soldier  and  a  gentleman, 
no  interference  in  any  way  !  " 


"I  should  have  thought  that  such 
an  appeal  was  perfectly  unnecessary," 
replied  the  General,  coldly. 

"  Oh,  forgive  me  !  forgive  me,  Ogil- 
vie! Remember  my  sufferings;  I 
was  wrong,  I  know  it." 

"  I  have  nothing  to  forgive,  St. 
Helen,"  replied  General  Ogilvie,  with 
a  quivering  lip.  "  By  my  God,  I  will 
be  true  to  you  in  every  thing." 

"  And  I  will  be  true  to  myself, 
Ogilvie.  You  shall  see  ! "  rejoined 
the  Colonel,  grasping  his  hand,  and 
shaking  it  cordially.  "  And  now, 
what  must  we  say  to  my  sister  to  pre- 
vent suspicion  ?  " 

"  Oh,  we  must  say  that  your  ship 
does  not  sail  for  a  fortnight,  or  some- 
thing of  that  kind  ;  it  will  be  no  dif- 
ficult thing  to  deceive  her,  poor 
thing  !  "  said  the  General,  with  a  deep 
si^rh. 

"  Hardy,"  said  Colonel  St.  Helen, 
addressing  his  groom,  whom  h:;  had 
sent  for,  as  soon  as  he  had  reached 
his  own  room  at  General  Ogilvie's, 
and  putting  two  guineas  into  his  hand, 
"  go  directly  and   station  yourself  at 

the  corner  of Street,  and  watch 

Number ,  wl.ich   is  Lord  Seck- 

ington's.  Say  not  a  word  to  anybody, 
but  be  on  the  look-out  night  and  day; 
and  the  moment  that  you  see  a  trav- 
elling carriage,  or  anything  of  that 
sort,  go  up  to  the  door,  presently  in- 
quire who  it  is  that  has  come;  and  if 
you  hear  that  it  is  Lord  Seckington, 
come  off  to  me  at  the  top  of  your 
speed  ;  it  shall  be  the  best  half-hour's 
work  you  ever  did  in  your  life;  ask 
quietly,  quietly,  mind,  to  see  me,  and 
tell  me  your  news.  To  nobody  but 
ME,  sir." 

Hardy  was  a  keen  and  faithful  fel- 
low;  and  in  about  an  hour's  time  he 

was  to  be    seen    lurking  about 

Street,  in  exact  obedience  to  his  mas- 
ter's orders. 


0!V<!^, 


ot> 


flaYOHTeaa  3ht 


fjr'^l    -rrtii  b! 


CHAPTER    X 


THE 


CHALI.ENGE. 


What  I  subsequently  learnt  from 
several  quarters,  1  may  state  here,  in 
order  to  keep  up  the  course  of  the 
narrative,  and  the  better  to  explain 
the  events  which  remain  to  be  de- 
scribed. 

1  was  right  in  supposing  that  Cap- 
tain Alverley  and  Mrs.  St.  Helen  went 
direct  to  the  continent;  but  of  their 
movements  when  there  I  scarce  know 
any  thing.  Her  wild  and  frantic  ag- 
onies of  remorse  at  the  step  she  had 
taken  were  scarcely  calculated  to  in- 
crease the  attachment  of  her  heartless 
companion,  whose  satiated  eye  beheld 
the  beauty  which  had  so  long  fevered 
his  soul  daily  disappearing.  Even  had 
it  been  otherwise,  had  she  retained  all 
the  fascination  and  loveliness  of  her 
manners,  the  novelty  of  the  affair  had 
worn  off;  he  had  gained  his  object, 
and  she  perceived  his  altering  feelings. 
To  her  guilty,  affrighted  soul,  indeed, 

"The  hollow  tongue  of  lime 

was  a  j)er]ielu;il  knell.     Eiich  stroke 

realcd  for  a  hope  the  less  :  the  funeral  note 
Of  love  deep  buried  without  rcsurrcclii)n, 
In  the  grave  of  possession." 

When  he  discovered  the  incurable 
nature  of  her  mentnl  sufferings,  that 
whirling  her  about  fr<M)i  one  scene  of 
amuscaient  to  another  failed  of  its 
object,  he  began  to  complain  that  his 
funds  were  running  low.  lie  had,  in 
truth  long  been  greatly  embarrassed 
and  involved,  yet  he  had  contrived  to 
appear  possessed  of  all  the  wealth  and 
to  enjoy  all  the  luxuries  and  elegan- 
cies that  penniless  young  men  offish- 
ion  so  mysteriously  secure   for  them- 


selves. Now,  however,  the  money  he 
had  obtained  from  Mrs.  St.  Helen,  as 
well  as  a  few  hundreds  that  had  bei^n 
supplied  to  him  by  a  brother  reprobate 
in  order  to  carry  on  the  intrigue,  had 
almost  disappeared.  He  began  to  feel 
himself  placed  in  very  awkward  cir- 
cutiistances.  \Vhat  is  a  pcimiless  man 
of  fashion  in  Paris?  Captain  Alver- 
ley besides  was  burdened  with  the 
perpetual  presence  of  a  woman  who 
was  weeping  bitterly  from  morning 
till  night,  frequently  in  very  violent 
hysterics,  and  who  vehemently  re- 
proached him  with  being  the  author 
of  all  her  misery.  He  soon  began  to 
sicken  of  all  this.  Was  it  for  this  he 
had  quitted  all  the  pleasures  of  Lon- 
don, and  lost  all  hopes  of  advance- 
ment in  the  army  ?  Paris  was  a  very 
pleasant  place,  and  he  could  have  en- 
joyed himself  there  but  for  his  unfor- 
tunate and  —  as  he  soon  felt  and  ex- 
pressed it  —  most  disgusting  affair. 
He  therefore  began  to  loathe  the  very 
sight  of  his  miserable  companion.  '  It 
was  unquestionably  with  a  feeling  of 
keen  regret  that  he  tound  her  brought 
home  one  night  dripping  from  the 
Seine,  after  an  abortive  atfeiiipt  at  self 
destruction,  to  which  his  cold  sarcas- 
tic repartees  had  impelled  his  half- 
tnadilened  victin).  The  poor  captain 
was  to  be  pitied  :  his  bold  and  dashing 
adventure  had  turned  out  most  unfor- 
timately.  Instead  of  the  brilliant 
beautv  he  had  reckoned  on  having  se- 
cured for  at  least  a  year  or  two  iti 
Mrs.  St.  Helen,  he  beheld  it  suddenly 
withered  and  gone,  and  there  was 
ever  with  him  a  haggard  woman,  tear- 


THE  DESTROYER. 


<41 


ing  her  hair,  wringing  her  haniis,  and 
frantically  teazing  him  with  being  her 
destroyer.  In  vain  he  sought  to  es- 
cape from  it ;  she  would  never  leave 
him  !  He  had  returned  to  London  lo 
endeavor  to  raise  funds;  his  unlucky 
encounter  with  the  Commander  in 
in  Chief  sent  him  back  in  fury  to  Pa- 
ris. He  had  never  felt  himself  in  such 
an  extremity^  and  lie  determined,  af- 
ter much  bitter  reflection,  that  could 
he  but  once  get  extricated  from  this 
unfortunate  adventure,  he  would  ne- 
ver again  undertake  one  on  so  exten- 
sive a  scale. 

Of  a  sudden,  however,  an  express 
from  London  brought  hira  news  that 
electrified  him  with  delight  :  a  delight 
which,  in  the  enthusiasm  of  the  mo- 
■nient,  he  attempted  to  communicnte 
to  his  gloomy  companion.  By  the 
death  of  his  aged  uncle  he  had  be- 
come Lord  Seckinglon,  the  proprietor 

of  Seckington  Castle  in shire, 

one  or  two  other  houses  in  different 
parts  of  the  country,  and  a  s,plendid 

mansion  in Street ;   with  a  rent 

roll  of  upwards  of  ^25,000  ayear,  and 
not  less  than  ^'200,000  in  the  funds. 
At  the  first  impulse  of  his  generous 
feelings,  he  determined  to  settle  upon 
Mrs.  St.  Helen  the  sum  of  =£500  a- 
year,  which  he  permitted  her  to  . 'spend 
wherever  she  chose  :  offering  to  give 
iier  a  thousand  pounds  in  addition  if 
she  woiiJd  not  return  to  England.  She 
began,  however,  now  to  be  unreason- 
able, and  affected  to  receive  his  libe- 
ral proposal  with  consternation. 

And  was  it  really,  then,  possible, 
that,  after  all  he  had  said  and  done, 
she  was  not  to  become  Lady  Secking- 
ton ?  Even  if  Colonel  St.  Helen  should 
lake  successful  proceedings  for  a  di- 
vorce ?  Horror,  horror  unutterable  ! 
*  *  *  * 

The  next  communications  that 
reached  Lord  Seckington  consisted 
chiefly  of  pressing  intreaties  from  his 
solicitor,  and  that  of  his  lamented  un- 
cle, the  lute  Lord  Seckington,  that  he 


would  lose  no  time  ni  coming  to  Lon- 
don, as  there  were  many  matters  re- 
quiring his  innnediate  attention.  He 
was  glad  to  see  their  letters  accompa- 
nied with  one  that  bore  the  hand- 
writing of  his  intimate  friend  Captain 
Leicester.  He  opened  it  and  read 
thus  : 

"  Dear  Seckington  — 

—  Pshaw,  how  odd  it  looks!  Of 
course  I  congratulate  you,  as  every 
body  does.  Don't  cut  your  old  friends, 
that's  all.  But  I  wish  chiefly  to  say, 
wait  abroad  a  little,  only  till  the  ex- 
citement of  the  story  has  a  little  gone 
down.     That  d — d  unhappy  devil  St. 

H ,  is  in   town  ;  but  I   hear   he's 

going  back  to  India  in  double  quick 
time.    Would  it  not  be  as  well  to  wait 
till  he's  off,  and  the  coast  is  clear  ? 
Eternally  yours, 
"  F.  Leicester. 
"  The  Rt.  Hon.  Lord  Seckington." 

On  perusing  this  well-timed  and 
friendly  letter,  it  suddenly  occurred 
to  Lord  Seckington  that  he  had  cer- 
tain various  matters  of  importance  to 
settle  in  different  parts  of  the  conti- 
nent ;  and  so  he  wrote  to  his  solicit- 
ors, infinitely  to  their  astonishment 
and  vexation.  He  was  preparing  to 
set  off  for  Brussels  two  or  three  days 
afterwards,  when  another  letter  reach- 
ed him  from  the  same  friendly  and 
vigilant  pen  : 

(Private.) 
London,  8th  Aug.,  18 — . 

"  Dear  Seckington, 

"  What  the  deuce  is  in  the  wind, 
perhaps  you  c;in  bettor  guess  than  1 
can  tell ;  but  I  lose  no  time  in  writing 
to  say  that  Colonel  St.  Helen,  who 
had  appointed  to  sail  to  India  (as  I 
told  you  in  my  letter  of  the  other  dav) 
and  taken  leave  of  every  body  in  a 
gloomy  way,  to  peck  an  honorabJe 
grave,  &c.  &c.  dec,  has  suddeniv 
changed  his  mind,  countermanded  all 


THE  DESTROYER. 


his  arrangements,  and  stops  in  Lon- 
don ! !  Every  one  is  amazed  at  this 
queer  move.  I  have  reason  to  know 
that  he  had  actually  engaged  his  pas- 
sage by  a  ship  that  started  two  or 
three  days  ago,  and  has  forfeited  ail 
the  passage  money.  This  certainly 
looks  cursedly  unpleasant:  are  we  to 
look  out  for  a  squall?  Do  you  think 
he  has  seen  that  offensive,  impertinent 
paragragh  about  you  in  the  papers  ? 
and  is  waiting  for  you  1  Is  so,  you 
are  in  a  d — d  awkward  predicament, 
and  I  really  scarce  know  how  to  ad- 
vise you.  It  will  hardly  do  to  keep 
out  of  the  way  a  little  longer,  will  it  ? 

Ask  ,  and ,  and   above    all, 

Count .     Ever  yours,  more  and 

more.  •'  F.  D." 

As  Lord  Seckington  read  this  let- 
ter, his  face  gradually  became  as  white 
as  the  paper  he  looked  upon.  Sever- 
al letters  lay  on  the  table  before  him, 
unopened  and  unattended  to.  With 
Captain  Leicester's  in  his  hand,  he  re- 
mained motionless  for  nearly  half  nn 
hour ;  at  the  expiration  of  which  pe- 
riod he  was  on  the  point  of  going  into 
his  room,  and  putting  the  muzzle  of 
a  pistol  into  hi;?  ear.  Probably  what 
he  endured  in  that  brief  interval 
counterbalanced  all  the  pleasures  of 
hisAvhole  life.  Lord  Seckington  was 
a  frightful  reprobate,  but  he  was  no 
coward ;  on  the  contrary,  he  was  as 
cool  and  brave  a  man  as  ever  wore 
epaulettes. 

But  consider  his  situation.  Here 
he  was,  scarcely  thirty  years  old,  sud- 
denly become  a  peer  of  the  realm, 
having  succeeded  to  avcry  ancient  ti- 
tle, and  with  all  appliances  and  means 
to  boot ;  all  that  could  secure  him 
'  honor,  wealth,  obedience,  troops  of 
friends"  —  in  short,  «»ccupying  as 
brilliant  a  situation  as  man  could  well 
be  placed  in  ;  yet  amidst  nil  the  daz- 
j:!ing  prospect  that  was  opened  before 
him,  his  eye  lit  and  settled  upon  one 
foil  figure  onlv —  iliat  of  Colonel  St. 


Helen,  standing  at  ten  or  twelve  pa- 
ces' distances  from  him,  his  out- 
stretched arm  steadily  pointing  a  pis- 
tol at  his  head.  It  was  perfectly 
frightful. 

What  would  he  have  cared  for  it  in 
the  heydey  of  his  career  as  Captain 
Alverley  ;  or  indeed  as  be  was  only  a 
few  short  days  before,  desperately  in 
debt,  driven  from  the  army,  disgusted 
with  the  presence  and  stunned  with 
the  shrieks  of  a  woman  he  had  long 
loathed  ;  but  now  — Perdition  !  The 
cold  sweat  stood  upon  his  brow,  and 
he  felt  sick  to  death.  What  was  to 
be  done  ?  He  could  not  keep  out  of 
the  way  ;  the  spirit  of  a  man  could 
not  endure  the  idea  of  such  coward- 
ice :  no,  his  coronet  should  never  be 
defiled  by  the  head  of  a  coward.  So 
there  was  no  alternative.  To  London 
he  must  go,  and  that  without  delay, 
with  the  all  but  certainty,  that  within 
a  few  hours  after  his  arrival.  Colonel 
St.  Helen  would  have  avenged  all  the 
wrongs  he  had  suffered  by  sending  a 
bullet  through  the  head  of  him  who 
had  inflicted  them.  These  were  the 
dreadful  thoughts  that  were  passing 
through  his  mind,  when  the  spectre 
stood  suddenly  before  him,  Mrs.  St. 
Helen,  who  then  happened  to  enter 
his  room  :  ail  her  beauty  gone,  a  truly 
lamentable  object. 

"  Well,  madam,"  commenced  Lord 
Seckington  bitterly  and  fiercely,  "  I 
am  going  to  London  to  be  shot  at  by 
your  d — d  husband.  He  will  certain- 
ly kill  me  ;  that  is,  if  I  do  not  first  " — 
The  latter  part  of  his  fiendish  speech 
was  lost  upon  Mrs.  St.  Helen,  who 
had  fallen  down  in  a  swoon.  He  im- 
mediately summoned  assistance  into 
the  room,  and  then  quitted  it,  hastily 
gathering  up  his  letters  ;  but  by  some 
fatality  leaving  behind  him  the  one 
which  had  occasioned  him  his  horri- 
ble agonies — Captain  Leicester's.  It 
fell  into  tlie  hands  of  Mrs.  St.  Helen's 
maid,  who  communicated  its  direful 
contents  to   Mrs.   St.   Helen,  but  not 


THE  DESTROYER. 


till  after  Lord  Seckington  had  quitted 
Paris.  He  hurried  to  his  bedroom, 
and  after  drinking  off  a  large  glass  of 
Cogniac,  he  dressed  and  set  off  to  con- 
sult with  one  or  two  "experienced" 
friends  upon  the  only  matter  that  now 
occupied  his  mind  :  whether  the  laws 
of  duelling  would  admit,  under  the 
circumstances  of  this  expected  meet- 
ing with  Colonel  St.  Helen,  of  his 
shooting  at  his  antagonist  in  the  first 
instance,  which  would  afford  him,  he 
considered,  the  only  chance  he  had  of 
saving  a  life  he  was  just  then  particu- 
larly anxious  to  preserve. 

"  You  must  give  him,"  said  Colo- 

,  a  considerable    authority  in 

such  matters,  "  two  shots,  in  my  opin- 
ion, and  even  a  third,  if  the  first  two 
have  had  no  effect ;  and  then  you  may 
do  as  you  will." 

"  Phol"  exclaimed  Lord  Secking- 
ton, with  undisguised  trepidation. 

**  Well,"  replied  the  Colonel  quiet- 
ly, "you  may  say,  pho !  if  you  like; 
but  you  ask  my  opinion,  and  you  have 
it,  I  have  known  it  acted  upon  sev- 
eral times,  and  never  objected  to  ?  " 

"  Is  your  friend  a  good  shot  1 "  in- 
quired Count ,  a  little  fire-eater 

as  ever  breathed. 

*'  I  should  say,  in  all  probability,  as 
good  as  myself" 

The  Count  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"Ah,  that  is  very  bad!  I  think 
you  may  shoot  at  your  friend  at  the 
very  first,  by  accident  !  " 

*'  That's  not  exactly  the  way  mat- 
ters are  settled  in  England,  Count," 

interrupted    Colonel    ,   sharply  ; 

the  vivacious  Frenchman  retorted ; 
one  word  led  on  another,  and  that 
evening  they  went  through  a  little 
duel  scene  of  their  own,  Lord  Seck- 
ington being  actually  compelled  to 
stand  second  to  his  countryman  !  On 
returning  to  his  hotel,  he  found  the 
cards  of  almost  every  one  of  his  most 
distinguished  countrymen  then  resid- 
ing in  Paris  lying  on  his  table.  He 
turned  sick  at  heart  as  he  looked  up- 


on them.  He  found  that  Mrs.  St.  He- 
len was  still  in  a  state  of  insensibility, 
and  he  embraced  tiie  opportunity  it 
afforded  him  of  preparing  for  his  im- 
mediate departure  ;  but  not  before  he 
had  left  sufficient  funds  to  provide  for 
her  comfort  till  he  could  send  her  fur- 
ther assistance  from  London,  if  in- 
deed she  did  not  first  receive  intelli- 
gence of  his  death.  Early  in  the 
morning  he  set  out,  with  much  the 
same  thoughts  and  feelings  as  those 
with  which  a  man  might  pass  through 
beautiful  scenery  on  his  way  to  the 
guillotine. 

Perhaps  it  might  not  be  exaggera- 
tion to  say  that  he  endured  the  tor- 
tures of  the  damned;  and  when  his 
post-chaise  and  four  drew  up  opposite 
the  frowning  portals  of  his   house  in 

Street,  he  stepped  out  of  it  pale 

as  death,  and  scarce  able  to  conceal 
his  agitation  from  the  obsequious  me- 
nials who  lined  the  hall  to  receive 
their  new  lord.  "  How  long  will  they 
be  mine  !  " 

As  soon  as  the  bustle  of  his  arrival 
was  over,  and  while  the  empty  chaise 
was  being  led  away  from  the  door,  a 
groom,  who  might  have  been  observ- 
ed loitering  about  the  street,  stepped 
up,  gently  pulled  the  area  bell,  and 
inquired  if  that  was  Lord  Seckington 
who  had  arrived?  He  was  rather 
tartly  answered  in  the  aflSrmative  by 
a  bustling  servant.  The  groom  saun-i 
tered  carelessly  down  the  street ;  but 
as  soon  as  he  had  turned  the  corner, 
he  ran  as  if  a  pack  of  beagles  had 
been  at  his  heels,  and  scarce  ever 
stopped  till  he  reached  General  Ogil- 
vie's.  He  succeeded  in  communicat- 
ing his  pregnant  intelligence  to  Colo- 
nel St.  Helen  without  having  excited 
the  suspicion  of  anyone  in  the  house, 
which  colonel  St.  Helen  quitted  a  few 
minutes  afterwards. 

About  seven  o'clock  the  same  even- 
ing, a  gentleman  knocked  at  the  door 
of  Lord  Seckington's  house.  Having 
been  informed  that  his  lordship  was 


5^ 


THE  DESTROYER. 


▼ery  particularly  engaged,  the  stran- 
ger desired  to  be  siiown  into  the  li- 
brary, where  he  would  wait  his  Lord- 
ship's leisure,  as  he  had  a  very  press- 
ing engagement  with  him.  The  ser- 
vant accordingly  ushered  him  into  the 
library,  aod  took  up  to  Lord  Secking- 
ton  the  card  of  "  Major  Darnley." 
He  h:id  not  long  to  wait  ;  for  in  less 
than  five  minutes  the  door  was  open- 
ed, and  Lord  Seckington  entered  in 
his  dressing  gown. 

"  Major  Darnley,  I  presume?  "  he 
inquired,  politely  advancing  towards 
his  visitor,  who  rose  and  bowed.  Lord 
Seckington,  who  looked  pale  and  fa- 
tigued with  travelling,  apolotrized  for 
his  delay  in  attending  the  Major,  and 
also  for  his  dre.^s,  on  the  score  of  his 
not  yet  having  had  time  to  change  it. 

"I  need  only  mention  the  name  of 
Colonel  St.  Helen,  my  lord,"  said 
Major  Darnley  in  a  low  tone,  "  to  ap- 
prise your  lordship  of  the  painful  na- 
ture of  my  errand.'' 

"  Certainly  :  I  perfectly  under- 
stand," replied  Lord  Seckington,  ra- 
ther hastily. 

"  Of  course,  my  lord,  the  sooner 
this  aflair  is  settled  the  better." 

"  By  all  means,"  replied  liord  Sec- 
kington, "  I  have  no  doubt  that  my 
friend,  Captain  Leicester,  whom  I 
know  to  be  in  town,  will  act  with  you 
immediately  in  my  behalf.     Probably 

he  is  this   moment   at 's,  where 

you  could  hardly  fail  of  meeting  him," 
looking  at  his  watch. 

"  Perhaps  your  lordship  will  favor 
me  with  a  line  addressed  to  Captain 
Leicester,  intimating  the  nature  of 
my  application  ?  " 

"  Undoubtedly,"  replied  Lord  Sec- 
kington ;  and  sitting  down,  he  wrote 
a  few  lines  to  the  desired  effect,  and 
folding  up  the  note,  directed  it,  and 
gave  it  to  Major  Darnley. 

"  Probably  Captain  Leicester  will 
be  with  your  lordship  shortly  :  shall  I 
tell  him  that  your  lordship  waits  here 
for  him?" 


"  I  beg  you  will  do  me  that  favor. 
Pray,  Major  Darnley,  let  no  time 
whatever  be  lost,"  added  Lord  Seck- 
ington, with  a  smile  that  it  would 
have  been  a  lu.xury  to  a  fiend  to  wit- 
ness. He  rang  the  bell,  and  ISL\jor 
Darnley  took  his  leave.  The  instant 
that  the  door  was  closed,  Loid  Seck- 
ington, after  a  sickening  glance  round 
at  the  spacious  and  splendid  apart- 
ment, threw  himself  upon  the  sofa  in 
a  .«tate  of  mind  that  it  would  be  in 
vain  to  attempt  describing. 

Having  agreed  to  dine  that  evening 
with  one  of  his  old  friends,  who  had 
succeeded  to  a  dukedom  since  they 
had  met,  and  who  had  quitted  Lord 
Seckington  only  half  an  hour  before 
I\Iajor  Darnley's  arrival,  it  became  ne- 
cessary to  write  off  immediately,  and 
announce  his  inability  to  be  present. 
He  did  so,  and  stated  it  to  be  owing 
to  very  pressing  engagements,  and 
the  thought  which  had  since  occurred 
to  him  that  he  ought  not  to  dine  out 
till  after  his  uncle's  funeral,  well 
knowing  that  his  own  funeral  might 
probably  take  place  at  the  same  time. 
It  may  be  easily  understood  that  he 
was  in  no  humor  to  renew  the  busi- 
ness details  which  Major  Darnley's 
arrival  had  interrupted.  He  sent  a 
message  to  that  effect  up  stairs  to  his 
solicitor,  to  whom  he  had  promised  to 
return,  begging  him  to  be  in  attend- 
ance in  the  morning;  and  ordering 
dinner  to  be  prepared  and  served  at  a 
moment's  notice,  he  again  threw  him- 
self upon  the  sofa.  He  was  roused 
from  his  dreadful  revery  about  a  quar- 
ter before  eight  o'clock,  by  Captain 
Leicester.  He  was  in  full  dinner 
dress,  having  been  met  by  Major 
Darnley,  just  as  he  was  preparing  to 

go  to  the  Duke  of  's,  where  he 

was  to  have  been  surprised  by  the  ap- 
pearance of  Lord  Seckington.  After 
his  hurried  interview  with  Major 
Darnley,  he  had  come  off"  direct  to 
Street. 

"  Well,   Alverley  —  Seckington,  I 


THE  DESTROYER. 


56 


mean,  you  see  it's  just  as  I  suspect- 
ed," said  he,  hastily  stepping  up  to 
Lord  Seckington. 

"  Yes,"  he  replied,  shaking  him 
cordially  by  the  hand,  and  uncon- 
sciously sighing.  "  May  I  reckon  on 
your  services  ?  " 

"  Oh,  of  course  :  I  am  here  on  the 
business  now." 

"  Where  were  you  going  when  Ma- 
jor Darnley  found  you?"  inquired 
Lord  Seckington,  alluding  to  Captain 
Leicester's  dress. 

"The  Duke  of 's." 

"Ah,  I  was  to  have  been  there 
too,"  said  Lord  Seckington.  "  They'll 
suspect  there's  something  wrong  by 
our  both  so  suddenly  sending  refu- 
sals." 

"  And  let  them  ;  they  are  not  like- 
ly to  send  us  peace  officers  if  they  do 
suspect.  They'll  only  be  devilish  sorry 
to  lose  the  company  of  two  deuced 
good  knives  and  forks  —  that's  all." 

"  I  have  ordered  dinner  here  to  be 
ready  at  a  moment's  notice,"  said 
Lord  Seckington,  as  the  servant 
brought  in  candles.  He  must  have 
observed  the  troubled  and  pallid  coun- 
tenance of  his  lord  as  he  placed  them 
upon  the  table  near  which  Lord  Seck- 
ington and  captain  Leicester  were 
standing.  "  You  can  stay  to  dinner  "?  " 

"  I  think,  perhaps  I  have  half  an 
hour  to  spare,"  replied  captain  Lei- 
cester —  for  duellists,  like  lovers,  must 
eat,  it  would  seem  -'- "  but  I  can't 
spare  one  second  more,  for  I've  en- 
gaged to  meet  Darnley  at 's  by  a 

quarter  to  nine  o'clock."  Lord  Seck- 
ington rang,  and  ordered  dinner  to  be 
served  immediately. 

"  This  blood  thirsty  devil,  St.  He- 
len," said  Lord  Seckington,  as  the 
servant  closed  the  door,  "  must  have 
been  watching  for  my  arrival  ;  Major 
Darnley  was  with  me  in  less  than  an 
hour  after  I  had  got  into  the  house." 

"  Very  probably.  No  doubt  he  had 
hired  some  fellow  to  lurk  about  and 
bring  him  word  of  your  arrival.     You 


know,  my  dear  fellow,"  added  captain 
Leicester,  "  there's  no  disguising  the 
thing;  we  are  likely  to  have  damned 
sharp  work  on  our  hands  in  the  morn- 
ing." 

"  The  morning!  I  shall  go  mad  if 
I  have  to  wait  all  though  the  night !  " 
exclaimed  Lord  Seckington  vehement- 
ly. "  D — n  me,  if  I  could  not  infi- 
nitely   prefer    fighting   tonight ;  why 

could  it  not  be  at 's  ?  You  could 

easily  manage  it,  Leicester.  You  real- 
ly must  arrange  it  so.  I  shan't  have  a 
chance  if  we  wait  till  the  morning." 

"  You  know  it  can't  be  done,"  re- 
plied captain  Leicester  as  soon  as  Lord 
Seckington  had  ceased.  "  It's  not 
sdon  la  regie — there's  a  method  in 
every  thing,  and  duelling  is  nothing 
without  it.  Darnley  would  laugh  at 
me,  if  I  proposed  it." 

"  Well,  I  am  of  course  in  your 
hands.  You  must  do  as  you  think 
proper,"  said  Lord  Seckington  with  a 
sigh. 

"I'll  parade  you  ;  let  me  see  :  five 
or  six  o'clock,  either  will  do,"  said 
captain  Leicester,  thoughtfully.  — 
"  However,  we  shall  discuss  every 
thing  fully  tonight  at  's." 

"Did  you  ever  know  of  such  an 
unhappy  devil  as  I  am,  Leicester  ?  " 
exclaimed  Lord  Seckington  abruptly, 
walking  to  and  fro,  "just  now  to  be 
shot." 

"  Ay,  and  for  such  a  cause,  that's 
the  ugly  part  of  the  story  ;  but  what 
does  that  signify  ?  'Twas  an  adven- 
ture carried  on  with  the  utmost  spirit 
—  you  could  not  command  success, 
you  know  :  eh  1  isn't  that  the  word  ?  " 

"  It's  d — d  hard  to  part  with  all 
this,"  exclaimed  Lord  Seckington, 
sadly,  pointing  to  the  fine  library. 
"  Hell  must  be  a  joke  to  what  I've 
suffered  since  I  got  your  last   letter." 

"  I  thought  it  would  have  that  ef- 
fect when  I  was  writing  it.  But," 
shrugging  his  shoulders,  "  the  thing's 
done  now,  and  you  must  try  not  to 
think  of  it.     'Tis  worse  than  useless. 

i>0  r|linJ»iT10« 


56 


THE  DESTROYER. 


Make  your  will,  and  snap  your  6ngera 
at  every  thing,  and  every  body  in  the 
world.  That's  the  way  a  man  of 
sense  and  spirit  should  meet  death, 
and  then  he  conquers  it.  By  the  way, 
if  you  were  to  make  your  will  it  might 
be  as  well.  There's  an  infernal  heap 
of  money  in  the  funds,  you  know." 

*'  O  Leicester,  don't  torment  me  ! 
1  shall  do  what  is  proper,  you  may 
depend  upon  it." 

"  Well,  my  dear  fellow,  don't  take 
it  ill.  'Tis  no  more  than  every  sec- 
ond should  do  for  his  principal  when 
he  expects  warm  work.  Of  course, 
St.  Helen,  you  know,  will  try  damned 
hard  to  hit  you  ;  but,  after  all, 
there's  no  certainty,  even  with  the 
deadliest  shots  in  the  world." 

"Oh,   curse  the !"   groaned 

Lord  Seckington,  coupling  Mrs.  St. 
Helen's  name  with  the  vilest  epithet 
that  could  be  applied  to  a  woman. 

"  No,  no,  Seckington  :  you  forget 
yourself.  I  call  that  very  unhand- 
some; nay,  it's  ungrateful,  it's  d — d 
bad  taste,"  said  captain  Leicester,  se- 
riously. 

"  You  should  only  know  the  kind 
of  life  she's  led  me  since  we  went 
abroad,"  exclaimed  Lord  Seckington, 
vehemently. 

"  Poor  devil,  you  ought  not  to  speak 
of  her  in  that  way,"  said  captain  Lei- 
cester with  a  grave  air  of  displeasure. 
"  Pray  remember,  Seckington,  that 
whatever  she  is,  you  have  made  her. 
It  is  not  handsome  to  speak  so  of  the 
woman  that  has  denied  you  nothing, 
and  lost  every  thing  for  your  sake." 

'*  Well,"  exclaimed  Lord  Secking- 
ton, after  walking  violently  to  and  fro, 
'•  I  suppose  I  may  say  that  I  wish  I 
had  been  in  hell  before  I  had  ever 
seen  her." 

"  Ah,  yes;  quite  another  matter  ; 
but  we  mustn't  have  anything  unkind 
said  of  poor  pretty  Mrs.  St.  Helen." 

•'  Pretty  !     By ,  you  should 

see  her  now.     Pretty  !  " 

"  Well,  I  hope  you  have  settled 
somethini  on  her." 


"  Five  hundred  a  year." 

"  Devilish  liberal,  certainly.  Would 
she  speak  to  me  if  we  met  at  Paris?  " 

Lord  Seckington  made  no  reply, 
but,  with  his  arms  folded,  kept  walk- 
ing to  and  fro,  heaving  heavy  sighs. 

"Take  my  advice,  Seckington: 
make  a  brave  effort  and  throw  it  all 
off  your  mind.  It  can  you  no  good  ; 
it  will  do  you  infinite  harm.  Fancy 
yourself  plain  Charles  Alverley,  the 
doged  of  duns;  drop  '  my  lord,'  think 
nothing  of  your  rent-roll  or  your  fund- 
ed property  ;  they'll  be  all  the  more 
delightful  if  you  escape  tomorrow ! 
Why  do  you  provoke  your  fate  ?  Hope 
for  the  best.  Depend  upon  it  you're 
too  good  a  fellow  to  be  ordered  off 
just  in  the  nick  of  time  ;  oh,  it's  im- 
possible !  " 

Lord  Seckington  grasped  his  hands 
and  looked  unutterable  things. 

"  You  know,  Leicester,  it  is  not 
death  that  I  care  for,  come  how  or 
when  it  may,"  said  he,  "  I'm  a  little 
above  that,  I  should  hope." 

"  Don't  fear  Boggy,  then,  eh  ?  '' 
interrupted  captain  Leicester,  with  a 
smile. 

"  Pshaw  !  But,  by  the  way ,  what  am 
I  to  do  ?  how  often  am  I  to  receive 
his  fire?" 

"Ah,  I've  been  considering  that 
point  a  little.     Why,  I  think  twice." 

"Andl"  — 

"  Fire  wide  the  first  time,  of 
course." 

"  But  I  don't  think  it  is  quite  such 
a  matter  of  course,  Leicester." 

"  Oh,  nonsense,  it's  as  clear  as  day- 
light :   trust  me." 

"  Really,  it's  devilish  hard  ;  he'll  try 
to  take  my  life.  It's  throwing  away 
my  only  chance.  It's  going  out  to  be 
clean  murdered  !" 

"  Seckington,  put  yourself  in  my 
place.  You  know  that  what  I  say  is 
the  correct  thing.  It  must  be  so,  or 
/am  not  responsible.  If  nothing  hap- 
pens, of  course  he'll  demand  another 
shot ;  and  then  you  may,  perhaps  — 
hem !  —  I  don't  say  what  you  ought 


THE  DESTROYER 


57 


to  do,  but  I  think  I  know  what  / 
should  do.  And  the  same  if  a  third 
is  asked  for." 

"  Why  the  devil  does  not  the  fellow 
announce  dinner  ?"  exclaimed  Lord 
Seckington,  violently  pulling  the  bell. 

"  Hush,  don't  be  so  feverish.  He 
announced  it  five  minutes  ago.  I've 
been  on  the  move  ever  since.  I've 
now  only  a  quarter  of  an  hour." 

Here  the  servant  made  his  appear- 
ance, and  Lord  Seckington  in  silence 
followed  his  companion  to  the  dining 
room.  Both  of  them  cast  one  signifi- 
cant glance  at  the  splendor  of  the  side 
board  display,  and,  indeed,  of  every 
thing  about  them. 

"  The  first  time  you  have  ever  done 
the  honors  here,  I  presume?  "  said 
captain  Leicester,  as  he  took  his  seat. 


"  It  is  probably  the  last,"  thought 
Lord  Seckington.  Alas!  what  would 
he  have  given  at  that  moment  to  undo 
what  he  had  done ;  to  have  begun  no- 
thing of  which  he  had  not  well  con- 
sidered the  end  ;  never  to  have  blast- 
ed the  happy  home  of  his  brave  bro- 
ther soldier  ;  to  escape  from  the  mor- 
tal thraldom  he  was  now  enduring. 
Perhaps,  had  he  been  calm  enough,  a 
lesson  of  his  earlier  days  might  have 
recurred  to  him  before  the  fearful  les- 
son of  the  ensuing  morning ! 

"  Audire  est  opera  pretium,  procedere  recte 
Qui  moechis  non  vultis  —  ut  omni  parti  la- 

borent ! 
Utque  illis  multo  corrupta  dolore  voluptas, 
Atque  base  rara,  cadat  dura  inter  saepe  pe- 

ricla !  " 


-'.R 


M'-)|      /I 


CHAPTER    XI. 


THE      DUEL 


Ir  was  settled  by  llie  seconds  tliat 
the  meeting  should  lake  place  at  five 
o'clock  on  the  ensuing  morning  in 
Battersea  Fields,  and  as  both  of  them 
anticipated  its  turning  out  a  desperate 
atFair,  they  made  all  necessary  ar- 
rangements to  meet  contingencies, 
providing  for  the  instant  flight  of  the 
survivor  and  themselves,  or,  it  might 
be,  of  themselves  alone,  in  the  event 
of  anything  fatal  occurring.  Two 
experienced  surgeons  also  were  in  at- 
tendance. Their  arrangements,  in 
short,  were  admirably  made,  for  they 
were  both  of  them  somewhat  experi- 
enced in  such  matter.s.  Within  a 
very  moments  of  each  other's  arrival 
were  the  two  hostile  parties  in  the 
field.  Both  Colonel  St.  Helen  and 
Lord  Seckington  were  very  finely 
made  men,  and  of  a  most  gentlemanly 
appearance.  The  former  was  dressed 
in  a  blue  surtout  and  light  trowsers  ; 
the  latter  in  black,  black  from  head 
to  foot,  not  a  spot  of  color  about  him, 
nothing  that  might  possibly  serve  to 
point  the  weapon  of  his  antagonist : 
a  precaution  of  his  thoughtful  second 
of  which  he  had  readily  availed  him- 
self, but  which  was  totally  disregarded 
by  Colonel  St.  Helen.  The  process 
of  loading  was  soon  got  through  ;  the 
distance,  ten  paces,  duly  stepped  out 
by  Major  Darnley  ;  and  there  Lord 
Seckington  stood,  in  fearful  contigu- 
ity, in  the  immediate  presence  of  his 
irreparably  injured  and  mortal  foe. 
Lord  Seckington  did  not  attempt  to 
s"ustaiu  or  return  the  dreadful  look 
with  which  Colonel  St.  Helen  regard- 
ed him.     Pistols  were  (juickly  placed 


in  their  hands;  the  seconds  withdrew 
to  about  a  dozen  paces. 

"Gentlemen,  are  you  ready?  — 
Fire!"  exclaimed  Major  Darnley. 

Both  pistols  were  discharged  as  he 
uttered  the  last  word,  and  the  princi- 
pals remained  standing  unhurt.  Lord 
Seckington  fired  as  he  had  been  en- 
joined, while  colonel  St.  Helen's  ball 
whistled  closely  past  the  chin  of  his 
opponent. 

"Are  you  satisfied?"  inquired 
captain  Leicester. 

"  By  no  means,"  replied  Major 
Darnley. 

They  loaded  again ;  again  with- 
drew, having  placed  fresh  pistols  in 
the  hands  of  their  respective  princi- 
pals ;  again  was  the  word  given,  again 
both  fired  simultaneously,  but  again 
without  effect.  It  was  evident  that 
this  time  Lord  Seckington  had  fol- 
lowed the  example  of  his  opponent, 
for  his  ball  passed  close  behind  colo- 
nel St.  Helen's  shoulder. 

"  I  presume  you  are  now  satisfied  ?  " 
inquired  captain  Leicester. 

"  Certainly  not,"  replied  Major 
Darnley.  "  I  must  insist  upon  a  third 
shot." 

"  I  really  cannot  permit  it  "  — 

"  Load  again  !  "  exclaimed  Lord 
Seckington  in  a  low  tone  ;  and  the 
seconds  resumed  their  gloomy  func- 
tions. 

A  third  time  their  principals  stood 
awaiting  their  signal,  and  as  the  word 
"  Fire  "  escaped  from  the  lips  of 
Major  Darnley,  both  were  observed 
to  take  deliberate  aim.  Neither  fired 
till  a  second  or  two  after  the  word  had 


THE  DESTROYER. 


59 


been  uttered,  when  their  pistols  flash- 
ed together,  and  Lord  Seckington 
prung  ui)wards,  and  instantly  lay 
extended  upon  the  ground.  Colonel 
St.  Helen's  ball  appeared  to  have 
passed  through  the  liead  of  his  oppo- 
nent, while  he  himself,  still  convul- 
sively grasping  his  weapon,  remained 
standing,  looking  silently  and  grimly 
at  his  prostrate  antagonist. 

"Fly!  For  God's  sake,  fly  !  " 
exclaimed  Major  Darnley,  looking 
towards  colonel  St.  Helen  from  beside 
the  insensible  figure  of  Lord  Seck- 
ington. 

"  Is  he  killed  ?  "  whispered  colonel 
St.  Helen,  as  Major  Darnley  rushed 
up  to  him,  repeating  his  intreaties. 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  fear  he  is,"  replied 
the  Major.  "  Why,  St.  Helen  !  St. 
Helen  !  are  you  hit !  "  Rushing  for- 
ward, he  caught  the  colonel  in  his 
arms,  and  both  fell  together  on  the 
ground. 

The  surgeon  who  had  accompanied 
him  to  the  field    was  instantly  at  big 


side,  and  pronounced  Colonel  St.  He- 
len to  have  had  a  fit  of  ajMiploxy. 
Lord  Seckington  s  ball  had  all  l)ut 
touched  the  breast  of  Colonel  St.  He- 
len, who  with  truer  and  more  deadly 
aim  had  so  directed  his  ball,  iliat  it 
passed  right  through  the  bonrs  of  the 
nose,  immediately  beneath  the  eye- 
brows,carrying  away  nltnost  the  whole 
of  the  nasal  bones.  Lord  Seckington 
was  not  dead,  though  perfectly  insen- 
sible ;  the  wound  he  had  received  was 
one  that,  if  he  survived,  would  occa- 
sion him  the  most  frightful  disfigure- 
ment for  life.  He  was  carried  insen- 
sible to  his  carriage,  a  handkerchief 
having  been  thrown  over  his  face,  and 
hurried  off  at  the  top  speed  of  his  four 

horses  to Street.     It  was  found 

necessary  to  bleed  Colonel  St.  Helen 
on  the  spot  from  both  arms,  and  as 
soon  as  the  incisions  had  been  hastily 
bandaged  up,  he  was  with  difficulty 
conveyed  to  his  carriage,  and  taken 
home  to  General  Ogilvie's,  a  dismal 
spectacle! 


CHAPTER    XII. 


THE      DESTROYER      AND       HIS      VICTIM  CONCLUSION. 


A  SHORT  time  before  the  carriage 
containing  Lord    Seckinglon  reached 

Street,    a  post-chaise   drew  up 

opposite  to  his  door,  in  which  were 
two  females,  one  of  whom  appeared 
violently  agitated. 

"  Knock  and  ring  !  —  ring  hard  ! 
open  the  chaise  door  ;  make  haste  !  " 
exclaimed  one  of  them  in  a  breath  ; 
and  as  soon  as  the  hall  door  was 
thrown  open  by  the  alarmed  porter  — 
for  all  the  servants  had  suspicion  of 
the  dreadful  nature  of  the  engagement 
which  had  taken  Lord  Seckington 
away  so  early  in  a  carriage  and  four, 
and  were  now  awaiting  his  return  in 
the  greatest  trepidation,  she  rushed  in. 
"  Is  Lord  —  Lord  Seckington  —  is 
he  at  home  ?  "  she  gasped. 

"  Yes  —  no,"  replied  the  affrighted 
porter  in  a  breath.  "  Do  you  know 
anything  about  his  lordship?"  By 
this  time  the  valet,  who  had  accom- 
panied him  to  France,  and  had  re- 
turried  with  him,  made  his  appearance, 
and  whispered  to  the  porter,  who  then, 
in  a  somewhat  less  respectful  tone, 
inquired,  "  Does  his  lord:?hip  expect 
you,  ma'am?  " 

"  No,  my  lord  does  not,  I  can  an- 
swer for  that,"  interposed  the  valet; 
"  he  thinks  you're  at  this  moment  in 
Paris." 

"  Silence,  sir !  show  me  instantly 
into  the  diningroom,"  said  the  lady, 
as  indignantly  as  her  violent  agitation 
would  admit  of. 

"  Excuse  me,  ma'am,"  said  the  por- 
ter, placing  himself  between  her  and 
the  diningroom  door,  "  I  —  I  cannot 
admit  you.  Are  you  a  relation  of  his 
lordship's  or  what  ?  What's  your 
business  here  ?  " 

"  Hinder  me  at  your  peril,  sirrah! 
exclaimed  Mrs.  St.  Helen,  for  she  it 
was,  with  all  her  naturally  command- 


ing tone  and  manner,  and  at  the  same 
time  pushing  him  gently  aside,  with- 
out further  opposition  she  entered  the 
diningroom. 

"  Order  in  my  maid  from  the 
chaise,"  said  Mrs.  St.  Helen,  sinking 
exhausted  into  the  nearest  chair  scarce 
able  to  stand,  or  to  see  whether  her 
orders  were  attended  to.  There  was 
a  sudden  muster  of  servants  in  the  hall 
for  a  few  moments ;  and  after  a  hur- 
ried conversation  together,  the  dining 
room  door  was  opened  by  the  valet. 

"  I  hope,  ma'am,  you  won't  make  it 
necessary,  ma'am,  for  us  to  do  our 
duty.  I  know,  ma'am,  who  you  are," 
he  commenced  with  a  determined  air. 

"Audacious  wretch!"  exclaimed 
Mrs.  St.  Helen,  roused  for  a  moment 
by  his  extraordinary  insolence,  **  if 
you  don't  instantly  leave  this  room, 
sir  "  — 

"  Ah,  ma'am,  leave  the  room  ?  Pray, 
ma'am,  are  you  mistress  here  ?  I  leave 
the  room,  ma'am  ?  You  will  leave  it 
first,  ma'am,  I  can  tell  you,  if  it  comes 
to  that — that's  flat!"  he  continued, 
pushing  wider  open  the  door.  "  Do 
you  think,  ma'am,  I'm  going  to  be 
talked  to  in  this  way  by  you?  I  know 
who  you  are,  ma'am,  quite  well.  Do 
you  think  I  hadn't  my  eyes  and  my 
ears  open  at  Paris?  My  Lord's  done 
the  handsome  thing  by  you,  and  you 
ousht  not  to  come  following  him  about 
the  town  in  this  way  ;  ah,  ma'am,  you 
may  look,  but  I  fancy  my  lord's  done 
with  you  ;  he's  got  other  fish  to  fry, 
just  now,  believe  me."  At  that  mo- 
ment a  vehicle  was  heard  approaching 
rapidly,  and  a  hubbub  in  the  hall 
drew  the  valet  thither.  "  Drive  away 
that  chaise  !  "  exclaimed  half  a  dozen 
voices  in  the  street,  and  Lord  Seck- 
ington's  carriage  drove  up  to  the  door. 
Mrs.  St.  Helen  sprung  to  the  window, 


THE  DESTROYER. 


61 


hearing  her  chaise  ordered  away,  ex- 
pecting some  new  insult  was  prepar- 
ing for  her;  and  beheld  the  miserable 
figure  of  Lord  Seckington  in  the  act 
of  being  carried  out  of  the  carriage, 
his  liead  covered  over  with  a  blood- 
spotted  white  handkerchief  She 
rushed  from  the  diningroom,  and,  with 
a  piercing  shriek,  was  flying  down  the 
steps,  when  one  of  the  agitated  ser- 
vants, either  designedly  or  accident- 
ally, tripped  her  foot,  exclaiming  .it 
the  same  time,  "  Get  out  of  the  way, 

you  d — d -!  "  and    she  fell   with 

her  forehead  upon  the  corner  of  one 
of  thesteps,  where  slie  lay  insensible 
and  disregarded  till  Lord  Seckington 
had  been  carried  in,  when  the  hall 
door  was  closed.  There  she  might 
have  continued  but  for  the  humanity 
of  one  or  two  persons  in  the  crowd 
that  had  gathered  round  Lord  Seck- 
ington's  carriage.  They  raised  her 
from  the  ground  ;  and  having  been 
informed  from  the  area  that  she  did  not 
belong  there,  and  that  they  knew  no- 
thing whatever  about  her,  they  carried 
her,  still  insensible  from  the  stunning 
effects  of  her  fall  and  of  her  violent 
mental  agitation,  to  the  nearest  public 
house,  whither  her  attendant  in  the 
chaise  followed  her.  From  the  repre- 
sentations and  intreaties  of  the  latter, 
the  surly  publican  consented  toreceive 
Mrs.  St.  Helen  for  the  present  into  his 
house,  and  a  medical  man  was  sent  for. 
This  was  the  once  beautiful,  happy, 
innocent  wife  and  mother,  Emma  St. 
Helen,  who  had  torn  herself  from  her 
hapless  children,  her  affectionate  hus- 
band ;  who  had  opened  her  foolish  and 
guilty  ear  and  heart  to  the  tempter ; 
who  had  fled  from  the  pure  arms  of 
her  husband  to  the  blasting  serpent- 
like embraces  of  an  adulterer  :  who 
could  pity  her  ?  Here,  discarded  by 
the  menials  of  her  seducer,  she  lay 
dishonored  in  her  extremity  among 
low  and  unwilling  mercenaries;  her 
beauty  entirely  gone ;  wasted  to  a 
skeleton  ;  heart-broken ;  paralysed 
with   the   dreadful  spectacle   of  her 


dead  paramor,  whose  hand  had,  per- 
liaps,  that  morning,  too,  been  dyed 
with  the  blood  of  lier  husband! 

It  seemed  that,  as  soon  as  ever  she 
recovered  her  senses  when  at  Paris, 
and  discovered  the  departure  of  Lord 
Seckington,  and  learned  from  her  maid 
the  too  probable  object  of  his  abrupt 
disappearance,  she  determined  on  fol- 
lowing him,  and  engaged  a  passage  in 
the  very  next  conveyance  that  started, 
so  as,  by  travelling  night  and  day,  to 

reach Street  the  very  morning 

after  Lord  Seckington's  arrival. 

1  was  culled  in  to  attend  Colonel  St. 
Helen  about  ten  o'clock,  and  found 
him  in  almost  precisely  similar  cir- 
cumstances to  those  in  which  he  had 
been  placed  when  I  formerly  attended 
him,  oilly  that  the  present  was  a  far 
more  serious  attack,  and  the  probabi- 
lity of  its  fatal  termination  infinitely 
greater.  All  our  efforts  to  relieve  the 
laboring  brain  proved  unavailing,  and 
we  all  gave  up  the  case  in  despair. 
On  the  Saturday  evening  after  his  fa- 
tal meeting  with  Lord  Seckington,  I 
was  returning  on  horseback  from  a  vi- 
sit to  a  distant  patient  residing  about 
two  miles  beyond  General  Ogilvie's 
house,  and  determined  to  call  in  to 
inquire  after  Colonel  St.  Helen,  if  he 
yet  survived.  When  within  a  few 
yards  of  the  house,  1  overtook  two  men 
carrying  a  coffin  on  their  backs.  I 
stopped  my  horse ;  my  conjectures 
were  right ;  they  opened  the  General's 
gate,  and  went  up  to  the  house.  So  it 
was  at  length  all  over!  Poor,  broken- 
hearted St.  Helen,  victim  of  the  perfi- 
dy of  the  wife  of  your  bosom,  of  the 
villainy  of  your  brother  soldier,  your 
sorrows  were  at  length  ended.  After 
pausing  for  a  few  moments  I  despatch- 
ed my  groom,  desiring  him  to  inquire 
whether  they  wished  to  see  me.  The 
General  sent  back  word  that  he  par- 
ticularly wished  to  see  me,  and  I  dis- 
mounted. He  met  me  at  the  door, 
and  with  the  utmost  grief  visible  in  his 
countenance  and  manner,  told  me  the 
event  that  had  taken  place.     I  follow. 


^2 


THE  DESTROYER. 


pd  him  into  the  ranm  we  had  jiut 
quitted,  and  we  sat  d«)\Mi  toneiher. 
Colonel  St.  Helen  expired  tliat  day 
iibout  twelve  o'clock,  only  an  hour 
after  I  had  been  with  him.  "He  lay," 
said  the  General,  "  in  the  same  state 
in  which  vou  left  him,  almost  to  the 
last,  in  a  dull  stupor.  I  was  sitting  on 
one  side  of  the  bed,  and  Mrs.  Oijilvie, 
contrary  to  my  wishes,  seein<i  her  ex- 
cessive agitation,  entered  the  room  I 
hid  a  little  before  insisted  upon  iier 
quitting,  and  resumed  thfseat  she  had 
before  occupied  on  the  bedside.  The 
noise  she  made  seemed  to  rouse  Jiim 
slightly  fronj  his  lethargy.  He  slowly 
opened  his  eyes,  the  first  time  during 
his  illness,  and  looked  dully  at  her  ;  I 
think  his  lips  seemed  to  move,  and  on 
bending  my  ear  till  it  almost  reached 
ihem.  I  think  I  heard  the  word  '  Em- 
ma.' His  head  sunk  back  upon  the 
pillow,  he  breathed  heavily  for  a  mo- 
ment or  two,  and  St.  Helen  was  no 
more  !  No  doubt,"  continued  the  Ge- 
neral, with  great  emotion,  "  he  had  a 
confused  notion  that  it  was  Mrs.  St. 
Helen  w'ho  was  sitting  beside  him  : 
alas,  that  such  a  polluted  being  should 
have  troubled  his  last  thoughts  !  Yet 
there  seemed  no  anger  or  disgust  in 
his  manner;  if  it  had  any  character 
at  all,  it  was  one  of  forgiveness  !  " 

He  was  buried   at ,  and  there 

was  scarcely  an  officer  of  distinction 
in  Londoti  that  did  not  insist  upon 
following  him  to  the  grave.  The  kind 
hearted  Commander  in  Chief  shed 
tears,  I  understood,  when  he  heard  of 
his  death.  He  beipieathed  his  fortune 
to  his  children  equfdly,  leaving  Gene- 
ral and  Mrs.  Ogilvie  their  guardians, 
whom  he  also  empowered  to  allow 
Mrs.  St.  Helen,  should  she  ever  re- 
quire it,  such  a  sum  as  woidd  place 
her  out  of  the  reach  of  destitution. 
The  will  vva.s  diited  only  the  <lay  be- 
fore that  on  which  he  fuught  with 
Lord  Seckington. 

I  regret  to  h  ive  to  mention  that 
name  again,  and  shall  dismi.ss  it  briefly 
and  for  ever       I  did  not  attend   him, 


but  heard  several  details  concerning 
him  from  those  who  did.  It  would 
perhaps  have  been  mercy  had  Colonel 
St.  Helen's  ball  passed  into  his  brain 
and  deprived  him  of  life  on  the  spot. 
It  had  utterly  destroyed  the  nasal 
bones  ;  and  it  is  impossible  to  conceive 
a  more  repulsive  object  than  he  must 
have  presented  to  every  beholder  dur- 
ing the  remainer  of  his  day.s.  He 
endured  intolerable  agony  for  many 
months  from  his  wound  ;  and  when  at 
length,  through  the  carelessness  of 
one  of  his  attendants,  he  suddenly 
obtained  a  sight  of  his  countenance  in 
the  glass,  the  dreadful  and  irremedia- 
ble disfigurement  he  had  sustained 
drcn'e  liim  almost  to  madness.  He 
gnashed  his  teeth,  and  yelled  the  most 
fearful  and  blaspliennms  imprecations, 
and,  in  short,  to  such  a  pitch  of  fren- 
zy was  he  driven  by  it,  that  it  was 
found  necessary  to  place  him  for  some 
time  under  constraint,  lest  he  should 
lay  violent  hands  upon  himself.  He 
gradually,  however,  became  calmer, 
and  appeared  likely  in  time  to  become 
reconciled  to  his  misfortune.  Colonel 
St.  Helen  was  dead  :  that  was  some 
gratification  !  Lord  Seckington  had 
still  vast  solace  left  him  ;  he  was,  af- 
ter all,  a  peer  of  the  realm  ;  he  had  a 
fine,  a  noble  fortune  at  his  command  ; 
and  these,  with  other  consolatory  to- 
pics, were  urged  upon  him  so  fre- 
(|!ienlly  and  earnestly  by  his  friends 
and  attendants,  as  at  length  to  satisfy 
them  that  they  might  lay  aside  their 
apprehensions,  and  release  liim  from 
the  painful,  the  intolerable  restraint 
they  had  felt  it  nece.ssary  to  impose 
upon  iiim,  also  relaxing  the  strictness 
of  their  surveillance.  They  did  so; 
and  a  day  or  two  afterwards,  the  event 
was  duly  announced  in  the  newspaper 
as  follows  :   "  On    the    2yth    ult.„  at 

Street,  in  his  S2d  year,  the  Rt. 

Honorable  Lord  Seckington."  It 
such  a  thing  as  a  Ct)ronir''s  Inquest 
look  pl.ice,  the  papers  took  no  notice 
of  it;  and  every  body  was  satisfied 
that  lie  died    in    consequence  of  the 


THE  DESTROYKR. 


m 


wounds   he  had  received  in  his  duel 
with  Colonel  St.  Helen. 

My  pen  now  moves  heavily  and  re- 
luctantly in  tracing  these  painful, 
but,  I  hope,  nevertheless,  instructive, 
scenes;  my  head  aches  as  I  recall 
them  :  but  my  long  labors  now  draw 
to  a  close. 

General  and  JNIrs.  Ogilvie,  with 
their  little  precious  charges,  (for  pre- 
cious they  were,  and  they  were  them- 
selves childless,)  withdrew,  in  about 
a  twelvemonth  after  Colonel  St.  He- 
len's death,  to  a  remote  part  of  Eng- 
land, where  they  might  attend  exclu- 
sively and  unremittingly  to  the  im- 
portant and  interesting  duties  confid- 
ed to  them.  Their  departure,  and 
the  endless  absorbing  engagements  of 
a  busy  professional  life  in  the  metrop- 
olis, caused  the  gloomy  transactions 
above  narrated  gradually  to  disappear 
from  my  memory,  which,  however, 
they  had  long  and  grievously  haunted. 
Three  years  afterwards,  there  occurs 
the  following  entry  in  my  Diary  : 

"  Wednesday,  8th  Oct.,  18—." 
*     *     But  I  shall   endeavor  to  de- 
scribe the  scene  exactly  as  it  appear- 
ed to  me.     May  experience  never  en- 
able me  to  describe  such  anotlier  ! 

"  Hush  !  stand  here.  Doctor  — ," 
whispered  Mr.  13.,  the  proprietor  of 
an  extensive  private  asylum  near  the 
metropolis,  where  I  had  called  to  visit 
a  gentleman  who  had  been  long  a  p;i- 
tient  of  mine.  "  Hush,  don't  speak, 
nor  be  at  all  alarmed,"  opening  a 
small,  and,  as  it  seemed  to  me,  a  se- 
cret door,  "  these  are  my  iiinirablcs. 
Hark  !  I  think  I  know  what  they  are 
about.  Step  forward,  here.  Can  you 
see?  I  did  as  he  directed.  From 
my  position  I  could  not  see  very  dis- 
tinctly, but  the  room  was  long  and  ra- 
ther narrow,  and  had  a  resemblance 
to  a  ward  in  a  hospital,  Avith  about 
half  a  dozen  beds  on  each  side  of  the 
room,  on  which  were  sitting  as  many 
boys,  apparently  from  about  fifteen  to 


eighteen  years  old,  wearing  long  blue 
dresses,  and  their  hair  cut  ;is  close  to 
their  heads  as  possible.  They  were 
making  all  manner  of  discordant  noi- 
ses, and  seemed  engerly  talking  tooc- 
thcr,  but  each  remained  sitting  quiet- 
ly on  his  own  bed  ;  a  circumstance  I 
mentioned  to  Mr.  B.,  expressing  my 
surprise,  that  so  eager  and  violent  as 
their  gestures  seemed,  they  should  not 
quit  their  beds.  "  It  would  be  very 
strange  if  they  could,''  he  whi.spered 
with  a  smile,  "  for  they  are  all  fasten- 
ed to  a  staple  in  the  wall,  by  a  strong 
girdle  passing  round  their  waists. 
Bless  your  life  !  if  it  was  not  for  that, 
they  would  soon  kill  one  another,  and 
every  body  that  came  near  them.  It 
was  only  last  month  that  one  of  them 
contrived  to  twist  herself" 

Herself!  "  I  whispered  in  amaze- 
ment ;  "  what  do  you  mean,  Mr.  B.  ?  " 

"  Why,  what  I  say,  Doctor,  surely 
—  are  you  not  aware  that  these  are 
women  1  " 

"  Gracious  God,  iromrn  !  "  I  ex- 
claimed, with  a  perfect  shudder. 

"Why,  certainly!  But,  by  the 
way,  they  don't  look  much  like  wo- 
men either ;  that  close  cut  hair  of 
theirs  is  so  like  the  head  of  a  charity 
schoolboy.  Some  of  these  people 
have  been,  and  in  point  of  family  are, 
highly  respectable.  It  may  appear 
very  shocking  to  you  to  see  them  in 
this  condition  ;  it  was  so  to  me,  until 
I  grew  accustomed  to  it.  I  assure  you 
we  use  no  unnecessary  violence  or  re- 
straint whatever  ;  but,  on  the  contra- 
ry, give  them  every  indulgence  their 
tinf<irtunate  condition  will  admit  of. 
What  can  we  do  with  them?  There 
are  several  of  them  perfect  fiends  if 
they  have  the  slightest  license.  I  was 
obliged  to  have  this  room  constructed 
on  purpose,  apart  from  the  rest  of  my 
establishment,  their  noises  were  so 
dreadful  ;  now,  hark  I  " 

"  Whoo-whoo-whoo  I  ''  shrieked  a 
voice  louder  than  any  of  the  rest, 
"  who'll  go  to  the  moon  ?  who'll  go  to 
the  moon  ?  who'll  go  the  moon?  " 


64 


THE  DESTROYER. 


"I  —  I've  got  it !  "  shouted  ano- 
ther. "  Pole  !  Pole  !  what  have  voii 
done  with  the  moon  ?  " 

"  I  go  for  the  stars  —  the  stars  I 
Whirr  I  whirr !  whirr  !  Away  I  away  ! 
away  I  "  cried  another. 

"Ha!  ha!  ha!  Ha!  ha!  ha !  " 
said  another  voice,  htirsting  into  h)ud 
laughter,  "  I've  got  a  dog  in  my  head  ; 
hark,  how  it  barks!  bow,  wow,  wow  I 
Ha,  ha,  ha!  " 

"  I've  got  a  cat  ;  mew  I  mew ! 
mew !  Who'll  catch  the  mouse  ?  I 
feel  it !  mew  I  " 

"  Water !  water !  water  !  The 
world's  on  fire  !     Fire  I  fire  !  fire  I  " 

'*  Hush,  you  wretches,"  exclaimed 
another  voice,  "  I'm  going  to  sing  for 
my  dinner  :  hush  !  hark  !  " 

"  Hark  !  the  song,  the  song  !  " 
cried  all  the  other  voices  together, 
while  the  singer  began  ;  and  in  a  few 
moments  her  voice  only  was  heard, 
wild  and  dismal  beyond  description, 
though  not  very  loud,  uttering  words 
something  like  the  following  : 

'■  Hark  to  the  bell,  the  merry,  merry,  merry 

bell. 
It  is  his  knell,  —  the  merry,  merry,  merry 

knell !  "  — 

'■  Ding,  dong !  —  Ding,  dong ! — Ding,  dong ! " 

sung  the    other   voices  in   a   kind  of 
doleful  chorus.    The  singer  resumed  : 

'■•  Lullaby!  Lnllaby  !  Lullaby! 
His  head.  oh.  his  head  it  is  white  — 
All  white!  white! 
—  Dead,  dead,  dead  ! 

Sing,    you     wretches !  "       They    re- 
sumed : 


"  Ding,  dong!  — Ding, dong! — Ding, dong!" 

The  sun  at  that  moment  shone  into 
the  dreary  room,  while  I  was  intently 
gazing  on  the  miserable  .scene  it  dis- 
closed. Mercy  !  my  flesh  crept !  I 
began  to  recognise  in  the  singer,  who 
looked  wildly  up  into  the  sunshine,  I 
could  not  be  wrong  !  Mrs.  St.  Helen  ! 
"  Who  is  that?  "  I  inquired  faint- 
ly, turning  away  from  the  room,  while 
my  companion  closed  and  secured 
the  door. 

"  Mrs.  Jones  is  the  performer,  if 
it's  she  whom  you  mean." 

"  Oh  no,  no,  no!  Her  name  is  not, 
it  never  was  Jones  !  "  said  I,  feeling 
very  faint,  and  moving  as  quickly  as 
possible  into  the  open  air. 

"  Well,  certainly,"  said  Mr.  B.,  af- 
ter considering  a  little,  "it  is  strange 
enough.  I  have  certainly  now  and 
then  heard  her  mention  your  nanie, 
among  others.  So  you  know,  very 
probably,    her    real    name,    Mrs.    St. 

H ?   ' 

He  mentioned  the  name  I  dreaded 
to  hear. 

"  I  have  had  her  these  two  years  ; 
she  was  removed  hither  from  St.  — 's 
by  order  of  General  Ogilvie,  at  whose 
expense  she  continues  here." 

I  got  into  the  open  air,  and  began 
at  length  to  breathe  more  freely.  I 
protest  that  I  never  in  iny  life  encoun- 
tered such  a  shock  as  that  I  hud  just 
experienced.  He  told  me  many  sad, 
allocking  things,  which  I  shall  not  re- 
cord. 

Oh,  merciful  and  just  God,  gover- 
nor of  the  world,  sometimes,  even  in 
this  life,  thy  most  tremendous  wrath 
alights  upon  the  heads  of  the  guilty  ! 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 
LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 

Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


,•  .-r.axS 

Oui       y  ^^''"' 

ntr:0  -^ 

C^^     ^ 

LD  21A-50m-8,'57 
(C8481sl0)476B 


General  Library 

University  of  California 

Berkeley 


